


Fruta de la pasión

by HetepHeres



Category: Zorro (TV 1990)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Jealousy, Mistaken Identity, Mystery, Parenthood, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 129
Words: 274,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HetepHeres/pseuds/HetepHeres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Child challenge" : A woman arrives in Los Angeles with a child who has surprising news for the Los Angelinos. Could it be that Don Diego, the most confirmed bachelor of the pueblo and a man above suspicion as far as women are concerned, finally had 'it' in him and had managed to keep such a big secret hidden?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ch 1 : Leonor

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally decided to tackle one of my own prompts / challenges, but with a slight twist (as the woman isn't claiming anything here...)
> 
> The other prompts can be found here: http://new-world-zorro.livejournal.com/761.html  
> and here : https//www.fanfiction topic/116120/76403695/1/Let-s-try-some-challenges  
> 

It was the end of the afternoon and Los Angeles was busy, bustling with people and activity. Sergeant Mendoza was taking a break, sipping a well-deserved refreshment on the tavern's terrace while Victoria Escalante, the innkeeper, was pouring him another drink.

"A rather hot day, isn't it, Sergeant?" she asked him.

"It is indeed, Señorita", Mendoza answered, fanning himself with his handkerchief. "It must have been a good day for your business, with people needing to wet their whistle..."

"Not really, no. Surprisingly. I think people were too busy to come and spend some time in the tavern today..."

"Well, you can always count on my patronage, Señorita!"

Victoria stifled a laugh. Of course she can, what would he do without his daily – well, several a day, to be true – glass of whatever fortifying and comforting beverage she had in store!

"That I can, Sergeant, and I'm grateful for it as well as for your friendship!"

"And you know you'll always have the de la Vega's patronage too, of course," he added.

Victoria became a bit pensive. Yes, until a few weeks ago she often had Don Alejandro visiting her tavern at least once a day, sometimes even more – when he wasn't away on one of his many business trips, that is. And Don Diego often joined him too in the afternoon – he definitely wasn't a morning person – with Felipe in tow.

But lately, things had changed a bit. They visited the pueblo less often than before, and when they did, they didn't always stop at the tavern. Don Diego locked himself up in the _Guardian_ 's office and Don Alejandro... well, Don Alejandro often reserved his visits to the graveyard and the church.

"Hum... not so sure about that, Sergeant. I haven't seen much of Don Alejandro lately, and Don Diego isn't really his usual carefree self anymore. And when they come to the tavern, I can see they are almost _forcing_ themselves to be cheerful... when they are not openly brooding, that is."

"Give them time, Senorita," Mendoza magnanimously told her. "They are grieving."

"I know, I know," she replied, "but it's been two months! They should... I don't know... go on... I mean, they didn't even _know_ him!"

"Precisely," Mendoza simply replied.

Victoria looked at him, puzzled.

"You see," the sergeant elaborated, "when you lose a beloved one, you're first hurting a lot, an awful lot, and then, as time goes by, you still mourn and suffer but you also think here and there of this or that good time you shared with that person, and then, when the grieving is over, you remain with all the good memories you have of him or her."

Victoria slowly nodded.

"Yes, I know that..."

Of course she did, Mendoza inwardly reflected.

"Well, you see," he went on, "when you lose someone you didn't have the time or the luck to know although you should have been close to them, you certainly can't mourn the loss of this person as much as you'd have if you'd really known them, but you don't have any of those memories to cherish either, and you grieve what wasn't. What didn't happen. You grieve this other life you could have had... a possibly happier life. You grieve the loss of what you never had and never will have."

Victoria remained speechless a few seconds. She would have never expected Mendoza of all people to be that insightful; but she remembered he had grown up in an orphanage and probably didn't remember his own parents. There was first-hand experience behind his speech.

"You are a very wise man, sergeant," she acknowledged. "I don't want to sound shallow or selfish, you know, but I just want Don Alejandro to be his usual cheerful and happy self."

"Si, I want this too, Señorita." He then looked at her and sent a playful wink in her direction. "All the more so that he is far more disposed to offer a drink to his friends when he is in a good mood!"

"Oh, Sergeant!" Victoria falsely scolded him.

They both burst out laughing. He took out his handkerchief again to dab at his forehead.

At the same time Don Diego finally came out of the _Guardian_ 's office with a thick envelope under his arm. He looked toward the tavern, and the sound of Victoria's laugh got a smile out of him: he waved at them, nodded his salute, but didn't stop by. He slipped his envelope in his saddle bag, mounted his horse, waved once more at Victoria with a smile and left the pueblo.

By the gate, he passed a big carriage which coach-driver then stopped his horses in the middle of the plaza, halfway between the tavern and the _cuartel_.

Victoria wondered what was in Don Diego's envelope. And where was he heading to? What was so important to him that he wouldn't take the time to share a drink with Mendoza and a kind banter with her? He was probably riding home, to keep company to his father. Lord knows the man needed some company and kind attention from a beloved one, troubled as he seemed to be lately! Unless Don Diego was once more God knows where, on one more of his many unexplained disappearances. A... a... a _woman_ , perhaps?

What a strange idea! And anyway, Diego de la Vega just wasn't that type...

"Oh, look, Señorita! Here comes the stagecoach! That will be good for your business..."

"Sure," she said with a suddenly very wide grin, "all those poor travellers with dry throats and a need for accommodation tonight!"

She rubbed her hands in glee and anticipation, idly looking at the coach driver helping his female passengers out of the carriage. As he was holding his hand out to a thirty-something woman, Victoria was already mentally calculating how many bottles of wine she'd have to take from her cellar. _Oh, no wine for that one,_ she thought as the driver helped a little girl out of the coach by putting his hands on her waist and lifting her up as though she weighed nothing. Before he put her down he held her at arm's length and spun around, eliciting a childish hearty laugh from her.

Victoria was planning the amount of soup she'd have to prepare for dinnertime when Sergeant Mendoza interrupted the course of her thoughts with an exclamation:

"Oh! Look, Padre Benitez is back!"

And indeed, the portly padre was prudently stepping out of the coach. He had been gone more than a whole week, and his helpers at the mission had been finding his absence a bit tiring, having to fill in for him in his many daily tasks other than purely religious ones.

Victoria waved at him, calling across the plaza:

"Hola, welcome home, padre!"

" _Gracias mi hija,_ " padre Benitez answered her before he politely took his leave from the other passengers and headed to the presbytery.

As predicted, most of the newcomers made their way to the tavern. A young man in his twenties asked her for her best wine, an old man and his son asked where they could loan a carriage and its owner to drive them to Don Virgilio Ségura's hacienda, and a nice couple in their thirties rented a room. Other regular patrons chose that precise moment to finally come for a drink and for a break in their day's work. When Victoria entered her tavern to take care of the incoming customers, she heard a woman's voice gently scold the child back in the plaza:

"Señorita, for God's sake, get down from this fence, this isn't a horse!"

She was immediately joined by another firmer female voice: "Leonor! Stop running around and jumping everywhere! Now!"

Tending to her customers and paying attention to life going on around her, Victoria focused on the task at hand and momentarily pushed aside any concern about Don Alejandro and any question she could have about his son.

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"Señorita, another pitcher here, por favor!"

"Señorita, is there any bedroom available for tonight?"

Victoria was swiftly going from one table to another, serving her customers and answering their questions, all the while keeping a businesslike although genuine smile on her face: today's receipts would be good, after all...

Mendoza was eyeing the scene from the counter: he had finally gotten inside to avoid being spotted on the terrace by alcalde de Soto and therefore being told to get back to work. Three vaqueros entered and sat down at a table near the entrance. Young Don Raul Lluviera, still a teenager – he was... what... fifteen now, at most? Mendoza calculated – ordered tequila. Two women entered, with a child in tow. The first one, a plainly-dressed fifty-something woman, was carrying three bags and looking around as though to take in everything. The other one was a woman in her thirties, clad in a fine brown travel outfit. She was tiredly dragging along an overexcited bouncing little girl.

"This isn't tequila!" Don Raul's teenaged breaking voice suddenly echoed in the tavern.

"It certainly isn't," Victoria replied. "It's Madeira, and it's the strongest you'll have in my tavern for the few years to come, Don Raul."

"But—"

"No 'but', Don Raul! It will be either Madeira or lemonade for you. What do you choose?"

The young boy reluctantly took another sip of his beverage, admitting his defeat: rather Madeira than some children's drink. He wasn't Diego de la Vega!

Mendoza turned his attention back to the travelling ladies who were just coming near the counter.

"Oh, come on," the youngest was telling the other, "we've all been through this age! Don't speak as if you didn't remember this time of your life, Concepcion..."

"I'd gladly forget it, Señora," Concepcion replied. "When I was fifteen I was terribly foolish, that's all I remember!"

"And when _I_ was fifteen," the other replied, "I got married. We all have embarrassing and inconvenient anecdotes of our past we'd rather forget, don't we?" she cheerfully added.

Just beside Mendoza, the little girl was standing on tip toes in a desperate but useless attempt to see what was above the wooden panel of the counter. She then raised her arms to put her little hands on top of the counter and repeatedly jumped up and down in order to see beyond it.

"Señorita," the older woman – _Concepcion_ , as the other called her – chastised her, "please calm down and stop jumping like a bunny!"

But on her last bounce, the child landed on the sergeant's foot.

"Ouch!" Mendoza let out.

"Leonor!" the younger one added, "calm down and stop fidgeting! Now apologise to the sergeant."

The girl eyed the man, rather impressed by the large stomach she was facing. She then raised her head to look at his face.

"My apologies, Señor" she obediently mumbled, blushing a bit.

"That's alright, _niña_ ," he replied. "Such a featherweight as you can't harm too badly a soldier of His Majesty," he added, swelling out his chest.

"I'm sorry on my daughter's behalf, Sergeant," the younger woman said, "I'm afraid long journeys and long days in a stagecoach don't sit well with a six-years-old... She's become incredibly agitated, this last hour."

"Quite understandable, Señora."

"Concepcion," the senora called, "could you please give Leonor her book? With some luck she'll sit and calm down."

The older woman searched in one of her bags and took out a storybook.

"Take this and read the rest of the tale you started in the coach, Señorita."

Victoria, who was passing by, was very surprised and asked the mother:

"She can read? A whole real book? At such a young age?"

"Well, yes," the Señora answered with a hint of motherly pride. "She's quite bookish, in fact. That's something running in the family..."

Victoria went to the other side of the room, where alcalde de Soto had just entered the tavern and sat down at a secluded table. She wasn't too fond of him, far from it, but after all he was a customer like any other, and as long as he wasn't creating any problem, he had the right to be served...

"Señora," Concepcion told the woman who was certainly her employer, "maybe the kind sergeant could tell us how to go to the hacienda and where we could rent a carriage and hire someone to drive us there..."

"Oh, I think we'll wait until tomorrow to go there. After all, we're not expected on any scheduled date, are we? And it's getting rather late. Not to add that I feel dirty and exhausted from the journey, and Leonor could certainly do with some rest: she's really agitated. And above all I want a cool drink, a much-needed bath, and a bed. In that order. We'll stay at the tavern, tonight."

"Did you have a long journey, Señoras?" Mendoza politely asked.

"Quite," she simply answered.

"Sergeant," Concepcion then asked him, "could you at least tell us whether the de la Vega hacienda is far from the pueblo?"

"The de la Vega hacienda?" Mendoza repeated. "Definitely too far for two fine ladies and a young child to walk there, I'm afraid. But if you want some means of transportation, surely Don—"

"Oh, let's not bother with that for now, we'll see to it tomorrow," the younger woman said. "Señora!" she called Victoria.

The innkeeper made her way to her:

"Yes, can I help you, Señora?"

"I hope so, Señora: I need a room for my daughter and myself tonight, and another one for my maid."

"Certainly, Señora. And that's 'Señorita'. I have two contiguous bedrooms, if you want."

"Perfect. I'll have a bath, too, but first things first, could you please serve us two glasses of this certainly excellent Madeira the young man over there — she made a discreet gesture in Don Raul's direction — seemed to find so disappointing?"

Victoria laughed and the Señora smiled, as well as Mendoza.

"And some lemonade too," the grinning mother added, looking down right beside herself, "there's a dehydrated little girl here who certainly could use some!"

The child closed her book and looked up.

"Oh, Mamá, can't I have wine?" she asked. The adults laughed at her enthusiasm.

The mother then frowned a bit.

"Just one small mouthful," she granted, "to further educate your taste buds, and only if it's a good one." She jerked her head at Victoria who was now behind her counter. "Oh, sorry Señora, I didn't mean to imply that your wine wasn't good!"

"That's all right, I think I understand what you meant and I didn't take it wrongly."

While Victoria was pouring the drinks and talking with the two women, Mendoza took the glass of lemonade and gave it to the little girl who was too short to grab it on the counter.

"Thank the sergeant, Señorita," the maid instructed her.

"Gracias Señor," she said.

"And the kind innkeeper," her mother added.

"Gracias Señora," the child repeated.

"De nada," Victoria said, before turning her back to the counter in order to wash some glasses.

"De nada, _niña_ ," the sergeant echoed. "By the way, young señorita, we haven't been formally introduced: my name is Jaime. The lovely lady here is Victoria. And what's your name, _pequeña_?"

Straightening, the child spoke clear and loud as she'd been instructed to do when introducing herself:

"Leonor de la Vega y Ximénez, Señor."

Mendoza was a bit surprised at hearing this name, as was at least half the tavern according to the slight decrease in the background noise, and Victoria turned to her customers.

"Oh, are you a cousin of Don Diego's?" she asked the mother.

"No, not exactly," the woman simply answered. "Finish your drink, Leonor, and take your book, we're going to our rooms. And you need a bath."

But the child was starting to take a liking in the funny kind sergeant, and when he next asked her what a lovely little girl like her has come to do in Los Angeles, she beamed and proclaimed with a wide grin:

"I've come to see my papá."

And in the deafening silence that had now spread over the tavern and to which the girl was totally oblivious, she added:

"And we're going to visit his home for the first time!"

A few seconds later, as the three women — well, two and a half, really — were climbing the stairs to their rented bedrooms, all heads in the tavern, including the alcalde's and Victoria's suddenly very pale and shocked face, turned to the now empty office of the _Guardian_.


	2. Ch 2 - Felipe

Unbeknownst to the other customers, a young man slipped out of the tavern through the kitchen backdoor. Felipe, the de la Vegas' young mute servant, had come there to deliver some goods to Victoria; he hadn't entered the tavern's main room, quietly waiting for her to come back with the bottle of tequila she had promised to Don Alejandro in exchange for his wine.

But even though he didn't see the little girl's lips move, he perfectly heard her words and felt absolutely thunderstruck at what she innocently implied.

He peeped through the curtain to have a quick look at the scene taking place inside the tavern: he managed to catch a glimpse of a five or six years-old girl heading to the stairs. All he could see before she turned her back to climb it was a rather round childish face with even features and twinkling eyes, framed by thick raven hair. Above a slightly too square jaw, small dimples were punctuating her cheeks, as though to draw quotation marks around her smile.

And this last detail felt disturbingly familiar to Felipe. He thought he recognised the author of that 'quote'.

He noticed that the whole tavern seemed dumbstruck as the two women and the child hurriedly disappeared inside their bedrooms, but he knew this silence wouldn't last long. In a few seconds the room would be buzzing with the sound of conversations — or rather _gossips_ , after this scene — and Victoria would finally remember his presence in the kitchen.

Victoria Escalante being Victoria Escalante, she would bombard him with questions. And aside from the fact that he didn't know the first thing about this situation, he suddenly really didn't want to 'talk' right now.

Of course he could play dumb — quite literally, in fact — and pretend he didn't understand people's questions, but he didn't feel like pretending and acting right now. He needed to be alone for some time, to let this puzzling scene sink in and then begin to think about it...

But before he had time to slip through the backdoor he heard a man's voice coming from the other side of the curtain that separated the main room from the kitchen. It was saying:

"At least, since the girl bears his name, it seems he took responsibility for his misconduct and recognised the child."

The alcade's voice retorted:

"Unless de la Vega is so naive that he unknowingly covered for another one's doings!"

Some customers burst out laughing after the alcade's statement, while others didn't think that even de la Vega could be _that_ naive. And after all, if he indeed acknowledged the child, it meant that enough had happened for him to think she _could_ be his offspring.

"Well, I certainly don't blame him, the lucky devil!" another man's voice stated. "I mean, have you seen the mother? I sure wouldn't say no to some quality time with such a shapely lil' bird either..."

"That's quite enough!" Victoria's voice furiously interjected. "I won't allow such vulgar speech in my tavern!" she warned him, although in more than ten years running such a business she certainly had heard far worse without even blinking an eye.

"Oh, seems that Senorita Escalante doesn't take well the unexpected discovery that de la Vega finally had a life..." de Soto said. "Or else, are you just miffed at seeing that you're not on top of his ladies' list?" he added.

Felipe had heard enough of it. He discreetly left the pueblo without bothering waiting for Victoria's bottle of tequila. He wasn't particularly eager to be back home either, even though it was almost dinnertime, so he made his way to the hills for some quiet time alone...

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Riding back from the pueblo in the middle of the night, Zorro was extremely puzzled.

The whole evening had been full of interrogations, but it culminated with his impromptu meeting with Victoria.

It had started with Felipe's absence at dinner. The young man hadn't advised anyone he'd come home late and, when he finally did, it was well past dinnertime. By way of explanation he pretended he had gone fishing in the hills and just lost track of time.

Except that he couldn't not have noticed the decrease in daylight... But before Diego could further question him, the young man announced that he felt very tired and went straight to bed, pretending not to notice that Diego was trying to catch his attention and to talk to him. And he didn't even have dinner!

There was something the boy wasn't telling them. He didn't bring back the bottle Victoria had promised to give them; and where did he really spend the last hours? At least, Diego noted with some relief, Felipe didn't smell of tequila. But what was he hiding? Was there a girl behind this poorly explained absence?

Anyway, Diego didn't have time to go see him and have him confess since Zorro had a mission scheduled for that same night: he had to retrieve some deed of property and its associated bill of sale for a land near San Diego that Don Alejandro had just sold to an old acquaintance. The alcalde had confiscated the papers before Alejandro had time to post them and he was planning on using them as a proof that the bill of sale was a forgery and that the de la Vegas were therefore trying to evade taxes; Diego feared the alcalde might counterfeit the paper himself to make sure that the bill finally appeared to be a fake...

But of course, once the burglary was accomplished things didn't go as well as expected and Zorro ended up hiding successively in a well, under a balcony, in a manger under some hay and finally in a barrel, as and when the soldiers were searching the pueblo for him, waking up some of its inhabitants by doing so. They particularly searched the tavern, going into each room without any consideration for the customers' sleep. From his hiding place in the street, Zorro could even hear that they woke up a young child who called for his or her mother in a terrified little voice. Sure enough, seeing armed soldiers invade their bedroom in the middle of the night was certainly very distressing for a child.

Once Mendoza left the tavern and led his men to another part of the pueblo, Zorro waited one more quarter of an hour before getting out of his hiding place and looking up at Victoria's bedroom: it wasn't lit, but the window which was previously closed was now slightly ajar...

Soon, Zorro was inside. Victoria closed the window again and didn’t light the candle in order to avoid attracting attention. Here in the dark, they stood in each other's arms, waiting for the soldiers to renounce and go back to the _cuartel_ and to their beds.

Suddenly, between the murmured words of love they were tenderly exchanging and in the middle of a quiet silence, Victoria asked him completely out of the blue:

"Zorro, do you think Diego de la Vega could be leading a double life?"


	3. Ch 3 - Zorro

_Do you think Diego de la Vega could be leading a double life?_

Oh _Dios,_ was she having suspicions as to his identity? Was it her way to test her theory?

Thanks to the darkness, she couldn't see him blanch. For want of a clearer indication that she was on the right track, he chose to play dumb.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about, Victoria."

She nested her head further into his shoulder. After a pause she elaborated:

"I mean... I know he's a grown man, and– and... and he's free of any ties or moral obligations to anyone... except to his father, that is... Oh _Dios_ , Don Alejandro! The poor man will be appalled!"

Well, _appalled_ maybe was a bit too strong a word, Zorro thought. Of course he wouldn't be too happy to discover that his son had lied to him for so many years, had hidden such an important fact from him, and he'd probably worry sick each time Zorro were to ride as of then, but to say he'd be _appalled_ at his son's lie! Surely he'd understand the need for it after a while, wouldn't he?

At least, Zorro hoped so.

Lost in her thoughts, Victoria went on:

"I know... I know Don Diego doesn't have to answer or to justify himself to anyone... well, except to the padre and to his father, of course... Still..."

What on earth had padre Benitez to do with all that? Well, of course lying was a sin, but surely...

"I'm not totally convinced..." she reflected aloud. "I mean, despite everything, I can't picture him being that sort of man..."

He sure had played his role perfectly, he thought. Inept, inert, idle and spineless Diego de la Vega...

But what exactly did suddenly give her a clue? As long as she didn't clearly voice her suspicion as to his identity, Zorro decided he'd carry on with the charade and pretend not to have the first idea about what she was talking about.

"I still don't know what you mean, mi querida."

She tore herself away from his arms, took a step back and, through the feebly moonlit darkness, she searched his face, or rather what little she could make out of it.

Apparently Zorro, who was usually very well informed of whatever was going on in the pueblo – and sometimes _before_ it even happened – was this time totally unaware of the scene that took place downstairs a few hours earlier. Wondering why, she asked him in a serious voice:

"You didn't hear, did you?"

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After Victoria told him what happened earlier in the tavern, Zorro remained speechless for a few seconds. He really didn't know what to say.

She understood he had trouble taking in this piece of information. Don Diego of all men..! But for some reason, Zorro seemed to take it very much to heart.

"And what's the woman's name?" he asked "I mean... after all, it's very easy to pretend and claim... What proof is there?"

Typical of men, Victoria reflected. And apparently even Zorro sometimes wasn't better than his fellow male comrades. Knee-jerk male solidarity, probably. She couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed in him.

Anyway, he could be right after all. Except that the woman didn't _claim_ anything, in fact. On the contrary, she had seemed rather eager to take her daughter away from the tavern's main room as soon as the girl started talking too much...

And Victoria told Zorro so.

He pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"Still," he said "this doesn't mean anything."

"But you didn't hear how spontaneous and natural she sounded..."

A bit lost at first, he quickly understood that Victoria was now talking about the girl and not her mother anymore. He tried to instil some humour to try to lighten the mood a bit – and Lord knows he needed it:

"Well, being natural is only natural for a natural child..."

Victoria shot him a glare so burning that it glowed through the darkness.

"It's hardly a matter of joke, Señor," she coolly told him.

Alright, not the right time for poorly chosen puns.

"You're right of course, I'm sorry," he apologised for his tasteless comment.

"You didn't see her either," she went on. "She... she... Come to think of that, she even _looks_ like him!"

Victoria couldn't see him frown under his mask.

"The same dark hair..." she started to list, "the same handsome and refined facial features..."

_Oh, she thinks I'm handsome?_

"...and she even has his dimples!"

Zorro retreated further in the shadow, away from the moonlight.

"I mean," Victoria added, "that's definitely a sign, isn't it? Everyone knows that's hereditary. And Don Diego has dimples, he takes these after his father. Risendo had these too. And I've never seen any portrait of Don Alejandro's parents, but I'm sure one of them had dimples!"

At the painful memory of his long-lost kidnapped, estranged and recently deceased twin brother, Zorro had a sudden fit of melancholy.

Not noticing his unease, Victoria went on:

"That's definitely a de la Vega trait. A trait her mother doesn't have..."

Suddenly slightly alarmed, Zorro tried not to move the lower part of his face, not to smile, not to make any move with his lips and mouth. He even tried to puff out his cheeks a bit, in the hope that it would prevent his dimples from showing.

All the while, the gears in his mind were turning at full speed about the unexpected situation. But his reflexion was interrupted by the sound of voices coming from the plaza:

"He's escaped once again! That man isn't a fox, he's a slippery eel!"

Instinctively, they flattened themselves against the wall, one on each side of the window, holding their breath, not daring to move so much as a toe.

At the same time, Zorro realised something: Felipe had been sent to the tavern at the end of the afternoon, so the probability that he was there when the woman and her daughter arrived or at least that he heard about them and about the last juicy piece of gossip that fuelled the tavern's conversations was very high. He must have been very distressed about it. Oh God, why didn't he just come straight to him instead of mulling it over and over for the whole evening? But at least it explained his strange behaviour of the previous hours. No girl and no tequila involved. Mystery solved. But he'd have to talk to him in the morning.

After a never-ending while, the voices stopped and the cuartel's doors closed. Victoria let out a deep and long breath.

"I think that's safe, now," she whispered. "How comes they didn't find your horse?"

"Tornado is clever, he knows what to do, I've trained him... I'll walk half a mile outside the pueblo and I'll find him in one of our hiding places, don't worry. But before I go..."

"Yes...?" a hopeful Victoria encouraged him, expecting a kiss. She came closer to him, her head slightly tilted back.

But instead of lowering his lips to hers, he slid his hands inside the black sash he was wearing as a belt and asked her:

"Could you please do me a favour?"

Victoria's eyes bulged. _What was he...?_

But he swiftly took two folded sheets of paper out of his sash.

"I need you to keep it for some time and hide it. If I give it back to the de la Vegas, the alcalde might confiscate these again and I'll have to break in his office _again_!"

Victoria took the papers from him and promised, planting a quick kiss on his lips as a good-bye. As she remembered he named the de la Vegas, her curiosity got the better of her and she started unfolding the first document. The last thing Zorro saw before he left through the window was "DEED OF CONVEYANCE" written on top of the page in capital letters.

As he was riding back home, his puzzled mind was trying to deal with this last piece of information: "Deed of conveyance" and not "bill of sale". His father had told him he had _sold_ these lands, yet it seemed he had simply _given_ them! Why? And above all, why didn't he just tell him about that? Then he remembered another detail he hadn't paid attention to, since he _saw_ the paper in Victoria's hands but didn't take the time to _read_ it. Now his memory was unfolding it before his mind's eye, and he tried his best to focus on what little he saw of the document. He couldn't make out the details, but a name stood out from the rest of the text, written twice as big as the rest and right in the middle of the page; unfortunately, Zorro didn't look at the paper long enough to make it out nor to etch it in his memory.

Too bad, maybe it would have helped him answer his questions... He'd have to ask Victoria next time he'll visit her as Zorro.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria stared at the papers Zorro had just entrusted her with.

Part of her felt bad, telling her over and over that this was personal business, personal papers, personal correspondence – well, no, not correspondence, there was no letter with the documents. But still...

Yet another part of her – the weaker-willed part – got the upper hand and, on the pretence of worrying for her good friends and watching over their best interests, she began reading the deed. Oh, just to know what it was about, nothing else.

 _Oh_ , she noted a bit disappointed, it was strictly business-related: Don Alejandro was donating some vineyards he owned near San Diego to... to...

Victorias' eyes bulged for the second time in the space of a few minutes.

WHAT ???

To _Leonor de la Vega y Ximénez ???_

_Oh._

Oh. Well, at least Don Alejandro already knew about the child.

That was a good thing.

Yes, at least that was something.

But on the other hand, Victoria reflected, that looked undeniably like a confirmation. Until this moment she had tried her best to keep an open and impartial mind, despite very convincing and compromising appearances. She had wanted to reserve her final judgement until she heard Don Diego out.

But this deed of conveyance was a blatant confirmation of what she didn't want to believe, of what she suspected against all hopes. Of what the whole pueblo now suspected.

And now that it was on the verge of becoming public knowledge, Don Diego wouldn't have any other choice but to finally marry the mother.

_But perhaps that had been the plan all along?_


	4. Ch 4 - Diego

Unlike most of the time, Diego got up early on the following morning. He couldn't sleep anymore, anyway: too many things turning endlessly in his mind...

First things first, he needed to have a serious conversation with Felipe.

But the young man seemed to have sensed it and was already gone.

"He said he wanted to go to the church," the housekeeper informed him.

To the church?

Oh, yes, Diego suddenly understood: Felipe was worried. There has always been a special bond between them, ever since Diego found him alone and orphaned on a battlefield, and it became even stronger since Diego came back from Spain. A bond which was somewhere halfway between 'father-son' and 'big brother-little brother'. But with a natural child now turning up in Los Angeles the boy probably feared a different turn in this special bond. And he might also be a bit jealous. He was worrying for himself. Worrying that he might have lost his place in favour of a little girl. Worrying about his future, afraid that the nature of his relationship with Diego would change.

_Oh, dear, how little he knows me if he thinks anything can change that!_

Yes, Diego really needed to see him and have this conversation with him.

He'd also have to talk to Don Alejandro, preferably _before_ the last news from the pueblo came to his ears.

Oh, and of course there was Victoria. What was she thinking right now? Her opinion on him wasn't probably very high, at the moment. He'd have to make things right here too.

Oh dear, what a fine mess he was in!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Yes, he was there," padre Benitez told Diego, "but he left a few minutes ago. He just lit a candle, kneeled and prayed. According to his gesture to me, I think he tried to tell me he wanted to be alone for some time."

"Gracias, Padre," Diego thanked him before heading for the exit.

"Don Diego!" the padre called him.

Diego stopped on his track and turned to the priest. He felt the padre wanted to say something but was struggling to find the right words.

"Have you talked to your father, today?"

"No I haven't seen him yet," Diego answered.

He had more than just an inkling of precisely what the padre expected him to confess to his father. Well, now that the word was probably all around the pueblo, it wasn't hard to guess. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Then you should go home now, Don Diego," padre Benitez advised him, "and talk with your father."

"Thank you Padre," he replied in a somewhat stiff voice, "but I must first find Felipe."

He bowed his head to take his leave and turned to the door.

"Go home, Diego," the padre simply told him before he stepped out of the church.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Felipe wasn't in the _Guardian_ 's office, nor anywhere in the pueblo as it seemed.

Since he set foot on the plaza that morning, Diego had been on the receiving end of two opposite kinds of treatment: most of the women and half the men answered very coldly to his greetings, paying him nothing more than polite lip service, and turned their backs to him; the others – men, exclusively – sent large grins his way and some of them even discreetly patted him on the back in some sort of either brotherly or patronising manner, he couldn't tell.

But all had in common the fact that they were whispering between themselves on his way. When he walked out of the _Guardian_ 's it started again, and these attitudes were really beginning to grate on his nerves. But a public outburst was so very unlike Don Diego de la Vega's quiet and meek persona that he held himself in check, suck it up and valiantly endured it like a man.

He glanced sideways at the tavern. Victoria... she wasn't on the porch but certainly inside, working in her kitchen, and very possibly appalled at his shocking and scandalous misconduct. _Appalled_ was the exact term she used, right? Well, he could understand her point of view: getting a young woman with child and _not_ marrying her... Yes, he thought he could understand very well the general disapproval.

He felt a compelling need to talk to Victoria in order to set things straight with her. But he wisely knew better: rather not try to talk with an irritated and testy Victoria Escalante. He'd better wait until the afternoon, when she would have had time to calm down.

For now he had to find Felipe and talk to him, as well as to his father. Felipe, his father and Victoria: the three people whose opinion of him was the most important to his eyes.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Felipe wasn't in his favourite fishing spot in the hills either. Finally, an idea came to Diego's mind; an idea so obvious that he felt stupid for not having thought of it earlier. Of course! The cave!

Relieved, Diego headed for the hacienda. With both his father and Felipe at home, he could kill two birds with one stone.

When he entered the hacienda, Diego saw his father come from the library.

"Ah, Diego, my son, I'm glad you're back. You were up early today... Is anything wrong? Are you unwell?"

Oh dear, how could being up and ready early be a sign of sickness? But anything unusual could be a sign that something was wrong, and getting up at sunrise certainly was deemed as unusual coming from Diego de la Vega.

"I'm all right, Father. Fit as a fiddle!"

_Physically, at least._

Don Alejandro eyed him.

"Diego..." he began, "you know we..."

He paused.

"I know we're sometimes not spending much time together," he went on, "but... Fathers and sons shouldn't... I mean... they should be able to tell each other anything."

"I assure you I'm perfectly fine, Father! And as a matter of fact, I'm glad to find you here, I wanted to–"

But Don Alejandro interrupted him:

"I uh... Parents and children shouldn't have secrets for each other..."

 _Oh._ Diego felt a cold shiver run down his spine. His father definitely knew something. But what exactly was he hinting at? At his very dangerous black and masked secret, or at the very recent but juiciest piece of news Los Angeles had had in months?

"Diego, I've been thinking a lot since Gil–" Don Alejandro's voice broke. He still had trouble saying this name, it always overwhelmed him with sadness. And as always, Diego felt for his father: losing a child, even one you didn't know you had, was inevitably very painful. Losing a brother was, too. Silently, he reached for his father's hand and pressed it lightly.

Don Alejandro gave him a grateful smile. Then he resumed talking:

"...ever since your brother's death... yes, I've been thinking a lot. And I came to the conclusion that you and I should be able to tell each other anything, without fear. With full trust and as a sign of goodwill."

 _Oh,_ Diego thought again. Yes, his father was benevolently but clearly inviting him to confess.

"Father, there's something you might... uh... I need to... I must say..."

"Diego," his father interrupted him again, "we're a family. We shouldn't have secrets for each other. Not anymore. That's why I wanted to..."

Then Don Alejandro seemed to slightly change his mind:

"No, that's not the way I should..."

He straightened, took his son by his elbow and gently guided him out of the sala toward the library.

 _The library!_ Alarmed, Diego thought of the secret panel behind the fireplace. Apparently, Don Alejandro had discovered the secret passageway. And therefore Zorro's lair. Hence this awkward speech.

Did he spot Felipe step through the fireplace, despite the young man's usual care and caution? _Well,_ Diego reflected, _our constant comings and goings through it couldn't go forever unnoticed, after all..._

When they reached the corner and before they entered the library, his father told him:

"Diego, there's someone I want you to meet..."

_Uh?_

They entered the library. The first thing Diego saw in there was a pastel blue form on the sofa. The form rose: a woman, roughly his age, clad in a refined light blue satin dress. Before they entered she had been reading, but now she was absent-mindedly holding her book, or rather it was nearly hanging from her dangling arm. All her attention was focused on Diego.

She seemed a bit nervous but hid it very well. She set her book down on the side table and smiled at him. A slightly unsure little smile.

"Diego," Don Alejandro said, "may I introduce Señora Araceli Ximénez de Valdès."

The woman curtsied.

"Araceli, this is my son Diego."

Despite feeling a bit puzzled and confused, Diego still had the presence of mind to bow, if only out of habit.

"You see, Diego," his father told him, taking him by the elbows once again, "losing Gi– losing my son made me think a lot... about family..."

Diego looked at him. He wondered why his father thought fit to have a conversation on this subject in the presence of a perfect stranger like this woman. Oblivious to his son's reservations, Don Alejandro went on:

"I uh... I don't really know how to... well, talking has never really been my forte, I'm afraid."

Diego saw Señora Valdès suppress a smile.

"Perhaps..." she said, before pausing too, "perhaps there is someone else Don Diego should meet too before any further explanation...?"

"Yes," Don Alejandro said, "yes, you're right. Let's go to the guestrooms."

He led the way and a perplexed Diego obediently followed, Señora Valdès in tow. At the end of the corridor, Don Alejandro knocked on one door. When no one answered, he opened it.

Diego heard him gasp and he looked inside in turn: in the middle of half unpacked travel bags a woman he didn't know was crouching at the foot of the bed, gagged with a silk scarf and tied to the bedpost with ropes by her feet and her hands. There was a light graze on her neck and a trickle of blood was running from it.

In two steps, Señora Valdès was at her side. With shaking hands she untied the gag.

"Concepcion, are you all right?" she asked her while starting to work on the ropes.

"Oh... Señora... Señora!" the woman said, sobbing.

Then everyone started talking at the same time:

"What happened?"

"Are you all right?"

"Oh _Dios_ , Señora, I'm so sorry!"

Diego swiftly untied her and helped her up.

"Oh my God, LEONOR!" Señora Valdès shouted.

"What happened?" Don Alejandro cried out. "Where is she?"

"Leonor! Leonor!" the señora called.

"Señora... Señora... I'm so sorry!" Concepcion repeated, shaking.

"Where is she?" Don Alejandro asked her again, looking alarmed.

Noticing the wide open window and the obvious signs of a struggle in the room, Diego was beginning to have an idea of what just happened there.

Breathing deeply, Concepcion calmed down a bit and was finally able to speak coherently:

"Two masked men... They entered through the window... They had weapons... pistols and swords and knives..."

She winced at the memory, raising her hand to the wound on her neck.

"I'm so sorry," she went on. "I tried, but I couldn't do anything. They took her. They said: _'tell Don Alejandro that he's to bring eight thousands pesos to Plata Canyon before sunset if he wants his daughter back and alive.'_ Oh, I'm so sorry Don Alejandro, Doña Araceli..."

Señora Valdès gasped, Don Alejandro turned white as a sheet, and Diego's mind was slowly processing the unexpected and shocking revelation combined with what had happened in this room. That was a lot to take in, but now was not the time to overthink things he couldn't do anything about, but rather to focus on those he might be able to actually _do_ something about.

He set his gaze on his distraught father and on the equally distressed Señora. Two terrified parents, worried sick for their child.

But Don Alejandro being a de la Vega, he soon turned from deathly pale to bright red, clenched his fists and hurriedly got out of the guestroom. Diego heard him rummage through drawers, then he recognised the steely and unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn out of its scabbard.

 _Oh, no!_ Diego thought. In his current state of mind, all his father would achieve was to get himself killed, or the girl, or both...

No. This was a job for Zorro.


	5. Ch 5 - Alejandro

"Father..."

"Not now, Diego."

 _Oh, no no no no no_ , Diego thought as his father was jerkily loading powder in one of his pistols. The man was shaking with rage, and half the powder spread over the marble plate of the sala's pedestal table.

"Father, I don't think this is–"

"I said _later_ , Diego!"

He was now loading a bullet in the barrel. Diego noticed he already had another pistol in his belt.

"Father, forgive me for stating this so abruptly, but I'm afraid you're getting a little too old for–"

"You're afraid of _everything,_ Diego!" Don Alejandro sharply pointed out.

Then he seemed to regret his hurtful comment and told him in a kinder tone of voice:

"Diego, I know you're not a man of action and I won't ask you to come with me. Lord knows I worry enough for Leonor, I don't want to have to worry for you too, my son. If... if anything were to happen to you..."

He paused, swallowing hard.

"Father, I have the exact same worry about you running after–"

"I can't..." Don Alejandro interrupted him, "I can't just stay... not when my daughter... Don't worry for me Diego, I'll be alright, I know what I'm doing."

"Father, I don't think you're–"

But Don Alejandro surprised him by taking him gently by the shoulders and looking at him in a serious manner.

"Diego," he said, "I know you won't come with me. That's alright: I need you to look after Araceli and comfort her. Please."

"I don't need comforting, Alejandro, I need my daughter," said a slightly shaky but rather assertive voice coming from the corridor as Señora Valdès entered the room. "Alive. Safe and sound."

"I'm going to find her, Araceli. To find _them_ ," he promised, slipping his second pistol in his belt. "I'll bring her back home."

"Alejandro, don't do anything foolish! I know you don't want to hear that, but you're too old for this! Let's call upon your alcalde, upon the army!"

"Hmph!" Don Alejandro snorted, "the alcalde... you obviously don't know him, of course..."

"Still," she insisted, "what do you think you're doing? Concepcion told me it happened a good twenty minutes ago. They're far away by now, and we wouldn't know where to begin the search!"

Her voice sounded calm, even though a bit forcedly so, but she was restlessly wringing her hands.

"She's right, Father, and even if you find them, how would you proceed? You won't help or save anyone by getting yourself killed!"

"He's right, Alejandro," she said "listen to us."

"Oh," he barked at her, "and what do you suggest? That we should pay? You really think they'll release her then?"

"No," she immediately answered. "They know she can recognise them, recognise their voices, even though she's still very young. Believe me, I'd gladly give all the money I have, my house, my business and even down to the last piece of clothing I'm wearing to get my daughter back, but I doubt it would do any good..."

"So, what?" he yelled. "What do you suggest?"

"Father, please," Diego intervened, "there's no need to shout at the señora..."

She sighed, closing her eyes, lowering her head, frowning a bit.

"I don't know," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Perhaps... perhaps go to that canyon tonight and try to... to buy time. Time enough for the soldiers to find them... to... Perhaps we could tell them it takes more time to get eight thousands pesos in cash... that we need a proof that she's still–" she paused. "...that she is uninjured, that she is treated well..."

Don Alejandro sighed.

"You sound just like Diego," he said. "Always overthinking everything..."

"Then Don Diego must be a wise man," she commented, "but that's hardly the matter here. I worry for Leonor and I don't want to worry for you on top of that."

"Oh, you worry for her, really?" he angrily asked. "Not enough to want to run after those scoundrels! I love Leonor, enough to go after them, and I'll get her!"

Araceli was already on edge, and this time she truly lost her temper:

"How dare you suggest I could love my daughter less than you do? I forbid you–"

She was too outraged and too frightened to think coherently anymore, Diego could see that. Oh, dear, he had just found out his father had had a secret bastard child he had hidden from him for years, with a woman he didn't even know, and he was now finding himself in the middle of a nasty fight between the two distraught parents!

"Please, please, Father, Señora, I don't think that's the right time for this. Father, I really think Señora Valdès's suggestion deserves consideration."

She sighed, closing her eyes once again. Then she turned to Diego's father:

"I'm sorry Alejandro, I'm afraid I got carried away and didn't really mean what I said."

"That's alright, my dear," he replied, "I believe I can't really think straight right now. I certainly didn't mean to doubt your motherly love... I apologise."

In the awkward silence that followed, Diego really felt out of place. And when his father hesitantly reached to grab Señora Valdès's hand and squeezed it lightly, he felt something not really pleasant in his guts. Part of him, probably the one that remembered his mother, felt a bit ill-at-ease before this modest display of intimacy, even though it remained very seemly.

On the other hand, that was the ideal pretext to slip away and go down to the cave, now that his father was held in check. He was about to take his leave from them when someone imperatively knocked on the front door.

"De la Vega!" a voice shouted from outside, "open that door!"

The alcalde!

With all these emotions, startling revelations and now the worry about both the little girl and his father's usual rashness, Diego had completely forgotten about those damn papers. He went to the vestibule to open the front door.

"Alcalde!" he said, "to what do we owe–"

But he stopped short: de Soto had come accompanied by a good twenty soldiers, among who was a very uneasy sergeant Mendoza. _Madre de Dios,_ he really wanted those papers!

"Diego," he negligently said, totally disregarding him as he brushed him aside to step inside, "is your father home?"

"Ignacio, this is not exactly the right time for that–"

But de Soto had already entered the sala, followed by some of his soldiers.

"Oh," he murmured, "I see..."

What he saw was the woman from the tavern – yes, the exact same one who arrived by the stagecoach with her child and who triggered the current shocked gossips in the pueblo. And in front of that woman was a very irritated Don Alejandro, according to the red colour of his face, his short breath and his shaking clenched fists. The man was angered.

De Soto then only had to notice the flustered state Don Diego appeared to be in and the woman's obvious distress to put the pieces together: Diego de la Vega was currently receiving the biggest telling-off of his whole life. And it wasn't difficult to guess why.

But at least, de Soto noted with unusual thoughtfulness, they had the delicacy not to settle this thorny and ugly business in front of the child. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

 _Oh dear Lord,_ de Soto thought not without some amusement, _old Don Alejandro must be absolutely furious!_

Well, he couldn't really blame him: the man seemed to be so self-righteous and uptight that it must have been a real shock to discover that Don Diego wasn't exactly the prim-and-proper daddy's boy he believed him to be, as well as to discover that his son finally had it in him! And well, with an unexpected bastard grandchild now turning up... Surely this wasn't how he envisioned the fulfilment of his constant wish that his son provided him with those grandbabies he had been nagging him with over the last year or so.

Yes, Ignacio de Soto couldn't blame Don Alejandro's anger.

But as the alcalde took a better look at the woman, he couldn't really come to blame Diego either... This lady was quite appealing in fact, and she must have been even more so six or seven years earlier!

Hum. Yes. Well... Although he would really like to sit back and enjoy the show of Diego de la Vega getting the dressing down of his life by his father, Ignacio de Soto had come here with a purpose:

"Well, Señores, I guess you know why I'm here. I've come to retrieve the documents this rascal Zorro stole last night in my–"

"Alcalde," Don Alejandro interrupted him in a testy voice, "now is really not the time for your antics!"

Flabbergast at his unexpected and offensive rudeness, de Soto remained speechless.

What? How did he dare...? Alright, the man was troubled by what he had just learned, but there was no need to take it out on him! After all, he wasn't the one who seduced a young girl, got her pregnant and just about one year later left and put an ocean between them. Because according to the child's age, this whole affair must have happened when Diego was in Spain.

Yes, Ignacio felt outraged. And this was a blatant lack of respect for his position as alcalde. He was about to tell Don Alejandro so in a few choice words when the woman came to him and said:

"Quite the contrary, the alcalde's timing couldn't be better."

And she launched into a very fast explanation about child abduction, blackmail and a threatened maid. From what Ignacio could make of this, the little girl had just been kidnapped for ransom and her mother was understandably frightened for her.

Then Don Diego and his father both entered the conversation, but the alcalde's mind simply froze at Don Alejandro saying 'my daughter'.

 _'My daughter'._ What exactly did he mean by that? Uh?

Oh, and here he'd just said it again. _'My daughter'._

And suddenly Ignacio's eyes grew wide. Oh! Don Alejandro? Don _Alejandro_ and not Don _Diego_?

Wow... That was... that was quite something.

"Please Señor alcalde," the woman was pleading, laying her hands on his forearm and squeezing it, "please bring my daughter back!"

There are priorities in life, Ignacio decided, and this woman's daughter's life prevailed over any tax avoidance her grandfather – no! her _father_! – could be plotting. Plus de Soto had still in mind that he had had to kill one of Don Alejandro's sons a few weeks ago, so if he could do something to prevent the loss of another of his children...

He even agreed to the woman's and Diego's request to take Don Alejandro with them in the search party.

"Gracias Ignacio," Don Diego told him, relieved that at least his father wouldn't launch into a solitary crusade. He knew Don Alejandro overestimated his own strength and dexterity, living with the memory of his successful youth in the army and completely forgetting about his age. Or at least refusing to acknowledge the effects the passing of time had had on his skills and abilities.

Diego took Mendoza aside and discreetly asked him:

"Please, Sergeant, look after my father. Keep an eye on him, will you?"

"Si Don Diego," the sergeant replied with a knowing wink. "I won't let him out of my sight."

"Gracias," Diego thanked him, "I'm afraid he'd try something rash and foolish..."

"Oh," Araceli told him, "you too..."

He looked at her. She knew him well, he realised. She truly _knew_ his father, or at least part of him.

Diego took a better look at her. Despite her natural olive complexion she was now looking very pallid. She pensively rose a shaky hand to her mouth and started biting her nails.

Don Alejandro came closer to her and took her by the shoulders. She avoided his serious gaze and turned her head to the side.

"Look at me," he told her. "Araceli, look at me."

She slowly complied, wincing. "We will find her," he added.

"You don't even know where to begin with," she stated. "What are you going to do? Search the desert at random? We'd far better set a trap for them... I thought... I expected the alcalde to suggest something like that... Tonight we could go to this canyon, hide and wait for one of them to show up to fetch the ransom. And then we follow him discreetly until he leads us to her!"

"Perhaps we will," Don Alejandro said, "if we don't find her earlier, but I can't just stay here all day long and wait for the night to fall."

Then he turned to his son:

"Diego, I know you must have a good thousand questions, but I don't have time to answer them now. Araceli will be able to enlighten you on many of your interrogations, though. I know I can rely on you to look after her and support her, my son."

After that he went outside and headed for the stable to get Dulcinae saddled.

Meanwhile, the alcalde was getting his troops ready. Keeping in mind the initial reason for his visit to the de la Vega hacienda, he told three of his soldiers to stay there and search the hacienda for the missing documents, beginning with the study, but going through all rooms if necessary, even down to the bedrooms. Diego sighed. When de Soto had something on his mind...

What was on Diego's mind, though, was to go down to the cave and begin his own search for the girl and her abductors. But once he found himself one-on-one with Señora Valdès a very awkward silence settled between them.

"Do you..." he began, "if there's anything you need..."

"All I need is my daughter!" she answered briskly. "Sorry, Don Diego, I didn't..."

She forced a strained smile on her face.

"Well," she went on, "as your father said, there are certainly many questions you wish to ask me..."

He looked at her.

"As a matter of fact, right now I have only one," he said, thinking about the content of the message the kidnappers had Concepcion repeat to Don Alejandro. "Who else knew that your daughter is also my father's?"


	6. Ch 6 - You've got mail

Diego had finally managed to give Señora Valdès the slip by handing her over to Felipe's and the housekeeper's care.

Galloping through the desert, Zorro was thinking about what she told him – or rather told _Diego_. In Los Angeles no one had known about Leonor's existence – except for the padre, and only for the last week or so – but in San Diego, where she lived, the identity of her child's father wasn't really kept under thick and opaque wraps. In other words, they had never been advertising about it, but didn't strictly conceal it either. Discreet but not secret.

And of course all her household knew that the elderly caballero who visited and stayed there for a few days every three month or so was the young señorita's father. Even half of her other employees did. And since Don Alejandro legally acknowledged paternity of the baby, of course his lawyer and the clerks knew. Plus probably some other people in San Diego. They weren't exactly hiding that fact, and anyway most people there knew that Señora Valdès had a child when she already had no husband anymore, so his frequent visits to the girl were enough of a clue.

And she apparently was well-off enough and detached enough from socialising to allow herself to dispense with an impeccable reputation. In her own words, she could afford for living according to her own standards. Diego didn't know what to make of that statement, nor if he should be worried of this on his father's behalf. But right now, they all had other more pressing and serious worries on their mind.

Anyway. If the girl's lineage was only known by people from San Diego and by no one in Los Angeles, it meant two things: these men had come from there and they had followed her and her daughter to Los Angeles. Which meant one more thing: they didn't know the surroundings, while Zorro knew these like the back of his hand. It was a clear advantage in his favour. Good.

But Señora Valdès had been right about something: no one could know where to begin the search. And he also had to avoid the alcade's patrol. This time they were more than twenty soldiers, that was beginning to be quite a lot; moreover, his father was with them, and Diego knew of his admiration for Zorro: he would side with him in a fight against the soldiers. And he didn't want him to do anything rash and reckless because of him.

Before he left the hacienda, Diego had looked outside the girl's bedroom, but he didn't find any footprints nor hoofprints. They covered their tracks very well, it would have taken someone as talented as Grey Wing, the Indian scout, to find which way they went.

For lack of any better idea, Zorro headed for Plata Canyon. Odds were high the kidnappers didn't know it very well, so perhaps they first did some reconnaissance there. Once there, he spotted some ideal hiding places to watch without being seen: if nothing better came along before nightfall, the señora's suggestion to his father might be the best course of action. Except Zorro didn't trust the alcalde and a whole company of soldiers to be discreet and quiet enough to follow the bandits in the middle of the silent night without being heard or spotted by their prey. No, this was definitely Zorro's area of expertise...

Suddenly, he stopped Tornado short in his track. Hoofprints! _Fresh_ hoofprints. And some more a few feet further! And even more over there! And– and–

_Oh no!_ A _great_ _great many lot_ of very fresh hoofprints. He had first thought he had come across the kidnappers' trail, but it was only the marks left by the patrol when the alcalde, following the same idea as his, led the search party to the canyon.

And apparently they didn't find anything, according to the tracks eventually running in circles. Even though there had been any clue here, so many horses and men walked and rode over these that it would be impossible to see anything in that mess by now.

Zorro sighed. The sun was high in the sky and he didn't have the first clue as to the kidnappers' whereabouts. He had been gone for a good three hours. Señora Valdès was going to wonder where he was. Well, he thought, Felipe could take care of that and come up with some explanation, as always. Except she couldn't understand him... And after all, perhaps there had been some new development while he was away...

Reluctantly, he brought himself to suspend the search for one hour, hoping against hope that some good news was awaiting him back home. He hated coming back empty-handed. But it was lunchtime and his absence from the hacienda on such a critical day would seem either highly suspicious or really unforgivable, and even Felipe couldn't find a suitable excuse for that.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

The three soldiers de Soto left behind him were still there and had rummaged through all of the study's drawers and shelves, after what they had searched the sala and then the library. Diego knew they wouldn't find what they were looking for here in the hacienda, since it was at the tavern. Nevertheless, he was quite nervous at the idea of them searching the library, especially near the fireplace: looking for some insignificant papers, they could come across far more than that, and he would have much trouble making anyone believe he didn't know the first thing about this cave that was so full of his beloved scientific tools, glassware and chemicals. And of Zorro's things, incidentally.

So when they left the library to go search the bedrooms, Diego and Felipe discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. They stepped through the fireplace and Felipe began tidying the rooms: the soldiers were very thorough in their search, but not very careful. There were discarded papers here and there, and even pieces of broken bibelots and trinkets on the floor. Felipe sighed inwardly when he heard once more the sound of broken glass come from what seemed to be Don Alejandro's bedroom. He shot an exasperated glance at Diego.

"I know," Diego whispered to him, "but at least they won't find anything: I gave Victoria the papers last night."

Felipe had felt relieved to have Diego back safe and sound but was disappointed that he didn't find the little girl. Yet.

Earlier in the morning, the young man had come back from the pueblo totally convinced that Diego had fathered a child he had been hiding all these years. He had sought the quiet of the cave to brood alone and in peace, but when he had felt ready to go back to the world and to his daily chores, he had found himself trapped behind the fireplace: Don Alejandro was in the library with a lady guest. Felipe waited, hoping for them to leave, but as their conversation went by, he slowly realised what exactly it was about. At first, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but everything gradually started to make sense in his mind: the girl bearing the de la Vega name, her striking resemblance with Diego, her dimples that were Don Alejandro's and _not_ Diego's, her black hair that was her mother's and _not_ Diego's... Suddenly Felipe saw Don Alejandro's frequent 'business trips' to San Diego in a whole new light!

Oh, dear... Don Alejandro had had a 'love child'. And had managed to keep that secret for years right under his very nose! And to think that Felipe prided himself to be the best spy in the territory!

Felipe was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Don Alejandro had a hidden daughter – not to mention the horrible fact that this child had been kidnapped – when Diego joined Señora Valdès in the sala.

"I'm terribly sorry, Señora, a splitting headache, I had to go lie down a bit."

"Your young servant told me," Araceli simply answered, not really paying attention. "Or at least I thought that's what he meant. I hope you're doing better," she added absent-mindedly.

"Oh, here you are, Diego," Don Alejandro told him, coming from the vestibule.

"Father, you're back!"

"Yes, but we'll go on with the search in one hour. De Soto said we'd need more men so that we can split into two or more groups and cover a larger area."

_Great_ , Diego grunted inwardly. More patrols to avoid this afternoon!

"So you haven't found anything..." he asked.

Don Alejandro sighed. "No."

Araceli lowered her head, weighed down with worry.

"This waiting is killing me," she said. "After all, I might be going with you..."

"No!" Don Alejandro flatly objected. "That could be dangerous."

"All the more reason for you not to go either," she retorted.

The housekeeper entered to announce that lunch was ready.

"I'm not hungry," Araceli said. "I couldn't swallow one bite."

"You need your full strength for her when she'll be back home," Diego gently told her, "and starving yourself won't help her."

"Throwing up won't make her come back earlier either, Don Diego," she retorted matter-of-factly.

This woman decidedly had a knack for disconcerting him, he thought.

"Alejandro, can you lend me a horse?" she asked.

"You're not joining the search and that's flat," he retorted.

"Don't start being pig-headed, Alejandro."

"Huh, that's the pot calling the kettle black!" he replied straight back

_Oh dear Lord_ , Diego thought, they were at it again!

"Father, Señora, please, I don't think bickering will help anyone..."

They both sighed.

"You're right Diego, of course" his father said. "I'm afraid we're both on edge..."

"Quite understandable, Father. Let's go and eat something, even if no one is really hungry here..."

"I won't have lunch," Araceli said, "don't wait for me."

Felipe spotted the soldiers come from the kitchen where they certainly just had lunch themselves: at least those three weren't put off their food!

Something suddenly buzzed unpleasantly in Felipe's mind. He searched his memory... If the three soldiers had been in the kitchen, then who did break some bibelot near the bedrooms five minutes ago?

Quietly, he left the sala.

"I still think our best chance is to set a trap tonight in that canyon," Araceli said. "But until then..." she added, her voice breaking, "oh _Dios_ , she must be so frightened!"

Don Alejandro reached for her hand and squeezed it. His own eyes were full of tears he was stubbornly choking back.

Suddenly, Felipe was insistently tugging at his sleeve. Regaining some composure, he turned to the boy:

"Yes Felipe? What is it?"

Felipe signalled at them to follow him and led all three of them to Don Alejandro's bedroom. Once inside, they could see that the window was broken, and on the bed lay the cause for that: a fist-sized parcel wrapped in a yellowed sheet of newspaper.

Don Alejandro quickly unwrapped it: inside was a stone, and another piece of white paper was folded and wrapped around it. But what held his attention was a fistful of six inches long silky and wavy black material. Don Alejandro blanched as he recognised Leonor's wild mop of hair tied with the blue ribbon she was wearing in the morning. He clenched his shaking fist around it as Araceli gasped in horror. She rushed to him:

"Show me! Alejandro, show me!"

He reluctantly let go of his daughter's hair. The distraught mother slowly and reverently rose the raven-black locks to her mouth and kissed it, then she buried her nose in it to breath in what remained of her daughter's scent.

She suddenly remembered the other piece of paper and unfolded it. Reading what was written on it, she gasped even louder than before. Diego saw his father struggle to decipher the message, as Araceli's hand was shaking hard. Then she dropped it on the bedspread and Diego picked it up.

_"This time, only hair. Tomorrow a finger"_

Oh _Dios_!

Diego saw his father cross the room to his secretaire and open a secret drawer he didn't know existed. Don Alejandro's trembling hands pulled another paper out of it. He compared the two:

"That's the same handwriting," he simply stated.

Diego and Araceli both came closer to have a look at this other letter. Stuck on top of it was a newspaper cutting: an article in a Monterey's newspaper announcing the death of the King's emissary Don Gilberto Risendo. A whole sentence was underlined: _'Don Gilberto happened to be the son of Don Alejandro de la Vega, well-known landowner of Los Angeles and important figure of the local community; our sympathy goes to Don Alejandro and to his only remaining child Don Diego de la Vega.'_

The words _'only remaining child'_ had been heavily circled with red ink.

Under this newspaper cutting a dozen lines had been hastily scribbled in a rather hesitant handwriting:

_"A love child can be a cumbersome godsend. I don't think your 'only remaining child' would be too happy to discover he's not as 'only' as he thinks. Don Diego might not like learning of your six years old cute little dark secret._

_If you don't want the whole of Los Angeles to become aware of your lecherous slip and its consequences, it will cost you one thousand pesos. One thousand pesos is not too much for salvaging a reputation and a father-son relationship._

_Someone will come and collect the money. No tricks: if he doesn't come back with it, your dirty little secret will be out. All over California._

_Post Scriptum: Sorry for your loss. Condolences"_

So, Diego thought, _this_ was what really triggered his father's sudden decision to tell him about Leonor... But he'll think about it later, he decided as his eyes fell on the tuft of dark hair lying on the bed. What mattered right now was the girl herself, and her fate. And also preventing Don Alejandro from going wild, wreaking havoc and putting himself at risk.

"Father," he said as he handed him the message that had been thrown through the window, "I think you should go and show this to the alcalde. Right now."

"Hmph..." he grunted, "the alcalde..."

"I think he's right, Alejandro, listen to him," Araceli told him.

And as his father reluctantly agreed, Diego peeked outside the window. This time, luck was on their side: he spotted a set of hoofprints on the ground.


	7. Ch 7 - Araceli

After making sure his father had gone to see the alcalde, Diego had sighed in relief: at least Don Alejandro wouldn't go on a search on his own after opening this very disturbing parcel. Dealing with his father's impulsiveness was always trying, but this time the very personal circumstances were making things even worse for the troubled elderly father. At least, Diego was reassured: just like in the morning, Sergeant Mendoza would keep a close eye on Don Alejandro this afternoon.

Behind Señora Valdès's back, Felipe gestured to him: he was going to saddle Tornado again. Diego noticed that the señora was holding her daughter's locks of hair tightly in her hand, her gaze lost somewhere beyond the horizon through the broken glass panel of the window. He made sure she was taken care of by her maid Concepcion, and then discreetly left them to take the secret passage to Zorro's cave.

Zorro had followed the tracks left by the rider who threw the stone and the message through the window. They led him to a hill a few miles from the hacienda; but it was hard to tell the real distance, since the rider took a wide detour to avoid the pueblo.

And here they were. Three men, and a tied-up and gagged child. Hidden behind a bush some hundred yards from them, Zorro was watching them. They were positioned as to form a triangle. Closer from Zorro was a man dressed in dark brown clothes who was standing beside the child, a pistol in his hand but not aimed at her. Another grey-clad armed man was near two saddled horses on the left. And on the right a third man dressed in light brown seemed rather agitated. All three of them were wearing a scarf over their nose, tied at the back of their head, so that their faces were hidden. All that could be seen of them was the eyes and part of the forehead, between the top of the scarf and the hat. Zorro heard another horse whinny, probably the third man's horse. Since they were shouting, he could understand what they were saying: they seemed to be arguing.

"That was a really stupid thing to do," the man near Leonor was saying, pointing a finger at the third one. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"I'm sure the old fogey needed some persuasion," he replied.

"And you didn't need to cut the girl's hair either, really!" the second man added, not listening to what the other objected.

"Well," he retorted, "I'm not the one who gagged her!"

"Her constant cries and whines were getting on my nerves, she'll recover from it," the man in grey argued, shrugging.

"And her hair will grow long again," his accomplice retorted. "If everything goes according to the plan, that is..."

"You should have referred to me before taking any kind of initiative!" the first one who appeared to be their leader shouted. "Did you at least think about covering your tracks?"

"Oh come on, there's nothing to get all worked up about!" the beige-clad man objected. "By now they must be too worried about their little princess here to think about either hunting us down or trying to fool us!"

"I'd really like to have your naive optimism," the man in grey told him, "but I'm afraid we now have to break camp and clear off to another hiding place..."

"Of course we have to," the boss agreed, "thanks to mister Big-Brain here," he added pointing at the beige-clad man on his right. "And this time we'll carefully cover our tracks."

"I swear you," the man on the left said, "if any of us gets caught because of your stupidity, don't expect us to cover for you: your name will be the first given to–"

"That's enough!" the leader cut in in a commanding voice.

Humm, Zorro thought, he doesn't want infighting and discord within the group... "Divide and rule", they say: this trouble in paradise could favour Zorro. The major danger was for one of them to use the girl as a hostage, to threaten to harm her, or to unwillingly hurt her while fighting. Which meant that he'd had to neutralise the one who was guarding her while the other two would be busy doing something else with their backs to him.

Spotting a rock a bit ahead of him to hide behind he got closer from them, in order to have a better aim: his plan was to come close enough to disarm their leader with his whip while the other two were not paying attention, and then to either fight them too or to just catch the girl and whistle for Tornado to come and then, back home!

He was about to do exactly that when an unexpected event, a hitch, occurred in his plan: he saw a horse gallop to them, coming from the bottom of the hill. No! that wasn't the good time for that! He had to act quickly before the bandits noticed it too! But at this exact moment, he was taken aback as he recognised his mare Esperanza.

Esperanza, mounted by a flurry of frilly sky-blue something. And before he could recover from his stupefaction, Señora Valdès had dismounted, a pistol in each hand aimed at each of the two bandits on both sides. She coldly but firmly told the third one, the one keeping watch over the child:

"Release my daughter, or your two friends will die before you have time to move an eyelash!"

 _Oh, no,_ Zorro thought. Her interference was derailing his plans. Diego had spent the last hours fearing that his father's hot temper and reckless attitude might mess things up and put him at risk, and out of the two parents it was finally the mother who did something stupid and rash like attacking bandits one-to-three and unprepared. What happened to not going on a solitary search? What happened to calming down, keeping a cool head and not doing anything rash?

Well, Diego knew what happened: she saw her daughter's cut hair and a message promising to harm her. That was quite a disturbing sight, along with an even more disturbing promise; all the more so that the message was laconic and lapidary. Short and sharp.

And in Araceli's mind, the cool-headed and rational part had finally been overtaken by the instinctive and immediately responsive part of her being. The ratio between the two had been inverted. Understandably so.

But that was a problem for Zorro in the current situation.

And what's more, he recognised with horror the pistols in her hands: on the right, some very old collector's handgun that usually adorned the study's mantelpiece, and on the left she was holding a finely decorated antique pistol which had belonged to Don Alejandro's father in his youth.

The first one was only harmless, as Diego knew the flint was lacking: she wouldn't shoot at anything with that one. But the second one was more worrying: his grandfather's pistol was a keepsake, a family heirloom, but it was so outdated that it hadn't been fired for at least thirty years. The odds were high that it wouldn't fire at all either, but there was also a significant risk that the gun might just explode in her face.

 _Oh, Dios,_ what a mess she was unknowingly making of all this!

On the ground, the little girl was wriggling, struggling with her bonds, having recognised her mother. Despite her gag, she was trying to shout something that sounded a bit like "Mamá!"

The bandit dressed in grey barked to the one on the opposite side:

"You see what you've done? You've led her straight to us, you moron!"

Suddenly a fourth masked man Zorro hadn't noticed before silently appeared right behind Señora Valdès and grabbed her, knocking one of her pistols out of her hand. The man in the grey suit made the most of her short moment of distraction to disarm her of her second pistol, and despite the reversal of circumstances Zorro let out a breath of relief: at least Araceli wouldn’t unintentionally blow up the worn-out gun in her own face.

Her two weapons now lay on the ground, and in a flash two of the bandits were aiming their guns at Leonor and a third one was taking aim at her mother with his pistol while the fourth man was holding the woman, twisting her right arm behind her back in a hammerlock.

A black horse then calmly came trotting from behind a rock, along with another white one. Four bandits, and four horses in total. Let's just hope that was all, Zorro thought.

"I don't think I'll release your daughter right now, Señora," the brown-clad leader told her, still aiming his weapon at the child. "With all due respect, I'll ask you to leave her with us some more time; after all we still need her for some business deal, don't we? As a matter of fact, it all depends on your... your _old_ flame..."

The other three burst out laughing at the dubious pun.

"Then keep me instead of her and let her go!" she offered straight back.

"Well," the man answered, "I'm sorry but a daughter is worthier than a former sweetheart." He paused. "Or even a current one, come to think of that," he added flippantly. "And a young child is far less troublesome than an adult, so thank you but we'll pass. Your daughter is lighter than a feather and my horse doesn't feel any difference when I take her with me to ride pillion... No offense intended, Señora."

"None taken," she grumbled through greeted teeth.

The man who was holding her in a hammerlock was keeping her arm pinned against her back with his right arm and encircling her with his left one clasped around her, keeping her locked flat against him. From her shoulders to her waist, she couldn't move at all.

Suddenly, right against his left hand – the one wrapped around her chest – the man holding her noticed... something. Something soft and rounded and cushiony. Here, right against his palm, the tip of his fingers gently sinking into its warmth and softness... With this same hand he then stroked and felt and kneaded and fondled and groped, an eyebrow suggestively arched high over his eye and a crooked smile on his face.

She froze and tensed, her eyes growing wide, her breath catching.

"Well well well," he said, "the old lech is a man of taste... He did all right for himself, the lucky bugger!"

With a sharp move of his head, he managed to make the red scarf hiding his features fall under his chin, and he slowly ran the tip of his nose up and down the side of her exposed neck, breathing against her skin. Her features sharpened and froze in distaste.

The man then replaced his nose with his moist lips. This time she screwed her face in clear disgust, still as a statue.

"I wish we could spend some good time alone together, sweetheart," he murmured in her ear. "You'd surely have more fun than the dirty old man ever gave you..."

And this time he downright licked her neck.

Against her better judgement, she couldn't bear any more of that: Zorro saw her sharply jerk her head backwards, headbutting the man hard.

Surprised and under the impact, the man stumbled backwards, releasing his hold on her. She tried to hit him in the ribs with her elbow, but he was already too far behind her and she just touched him lightly in the chest. He raised a hand to his aching nose, but incensed by the pain and the damaged done to his pride, he threw a punch at her cheek. She fell backwards on the ground, rolling in the dust. Her fancy dress, already mussed by the wild ride, was now a real mess. In her fall, the bottom of her skirts hiked up, letting her white silken-clad calves show from her ankles up to her knees.

Each of the four bandits reacted immediately: the two guarding the child tightened their hold on their guns, the man in grey got closer from the señora, holding her at gunpoint, while the fourth man, still recovering from the blow she gave him and hiding his face again with his scarf drew his pistol and aimed it at her too.

The situation became more complicated for Zorro to take action. He could easily neutralise one man, probably two in a same move, but not four in two different places at the same time. If he attacked the two bandits threatening the child, the other two would have time to pull the trigger and shoot her mother. And if he freed the woman first, he wouldn't have time to do anything more before the two remaining men could harm little Leonor.

That was an even trickier situation than a few seconds before. It was really too risky to intervene.

"Wrong move, querida," the man with the red scarf told Araceli, still holding her at gunpoint, "but I'm a good boy and I'm all for giving you a second chance. Are you sure you don't want a special cuddle with me? I can be extra gentle, if that's what makes you get wet... Or a bit rough, if that's what makes you get off... Whatever you like, pretty!"

Still lying on the ground, she shuddered in revulsion and flinched a bit.

"No?" the man went on with a snigger. "Sure? Well, you have no idea what you're missing out on, love. Too bad for you!"

"That's quite enough!" the gang leader's voice sharply cut in. "I'm sorry Señora," he then added graciously, "I must ask you to forgive my associate, some people just don't have manners and don't know how to address a lady of quality nor to watch their language in the presence of a child..."

And the child in question was indeed silently sobbing through her gag. No doubt that seeing her mother being hit in the face distressed the girl greatly.

"Gallantry would normally command that I should offer you my arm to help you up," the leader went on, "but you'll understand that considering the situation and the demonstration you've just given us of what kind of nasty tricks you're capable of, we'll keep our distance. My apologies about that, Señora, but safety prevails."

She sat up, taking a look around herself, but she didn't stand.

"I have an offer," she announced. "Co–... come to think about it... I might have a deal to propose..."

"I don't think you're in any position to negotiate, Señora."

"Who talks about _negotiation_ , here?" she said in a very self-assured voice. "I'm talking _business_!"

She paused. The four men waited, curious against their better judgement to know what she'd have to offer.

"Here is the deal," she went on. "I..."

She paused again.

"You let my daughter go on my horse here," she said showing Esperanza, "and once I'm sure she's safe, let's say... in half an hour..." she paused again, then took a deep breath to give herself some courage, "then I... I let you do whatever you want with me. I... I could even be... be quite... cuddly, if that's what you..."

But her whole physical attitude showed enough how repulsed she felt at this idea. She failed at totally suppressing a shudder. She nonetheless tried to conceal it and put on a brave face.

"So?" she asked, defiantly holding her head high.

"Well," the brown-clad leader answered, "I would hate for you to think we disregard the quality of what you're offering, Señora, but despite what you seem to be thinking, we're not the kind of men who'd take advantage of a woman. But please don't take this as an insult to your charms, I think I can talk on behalf of all my associates here to assure you they're quite appealing."

The red-scarfed man, the one who'd been precisely holding, groping and teasing her a few seconds before told her:

"If you're not truly ready to have fun and enjoy yourself, it's just not fun for me either... I don't get off from forcing myself on anyone who doesn't really want me!"

"And anyway, as otherwise pleasant an undoubtedly enjoyable what you have to offer seems to be, I don’t think it's worth eight thousands pesos. We're here on a certain business, Señora, and we fully intend it to be handled on _our_ terms. After all, business is business, I'm sure you of all people can understand that, Señora. But we pay tribute to your motherly devotion and abnegation."

He paused.

"So in short," he concluded, "thank you for the tempting offer but the answer is no."


	8. Ch 8 - The fox, the horse and the she-wolf

After rejecting the deal Araceli had just offered, the gang leader addressed the man in grey: "Watch her closely!"

The man obeyed and took a step closer to her, tightening his grip on his gun.

"And you," the leader told the man with the red scarf, "got get some rope from the saddlebags. And you, Señora," he went on, "will slowly raise your hands high up... yes, just like that" he added as she complied. "Don't forget that my pistol is less than two feet from your lovely daughter and is aimed right at her... Now you will slowly stand up to your feet... That's good... My associate here will tie your hands, so now lower your right arm behind your back... very well, now do the same with the left one..."

She was white-faced under the dust and the sweat covering her right cheek, while her left cheek was still red from the punch the man gave her a few minutes before.

"Tie her wrists together!" the boss ordered him. "And you," he told her, "no trick! We've seen what you're capable of, but don't forget about my pistol and your daughter!"

Araceli obediently let herself be tied up. Then the bandit kicked one of her antique pistols in a narrow stream flowing a few feet from them. A totally useless precaution since it was the collector's gun which firing system was missing, but no one but Zorro could have known that. Her other pistol was nowhere to be seen: they hadn't noticed that it had been thrown in a nearby bush when the man had kicked it off her hand a few minutes before.

"What are we going to do with her now?" the man dressed in beige asked.

"Perhaps you should have thought about it _before_ you led her to us!" the man in grey retorted.

"What's done is done!" the gang leader cut in.

"We can't take her with us, she'd slow us down."

"Well, we could just..." the man in grey said, not finishing his sentence but making a very evocative gesture with his pistol. "That way we wouldn't be bothered!"

Her eyes grew wide in horror.

"W– w– wait!" the man in beige shouted. "That's never been the plan! There's never been any question about..."

"Well," the other replied, "that was before _you_ brought her here with your stupid initiative! Now we just have to adapt. You can only blame yourself for her fate!"

"Enough with that!" their leader said. "Fortunately for the señora, we won't have to resort to that. You!" he called the red-scarfed brigand, "make her horse go."

Keeping his pistol in his right hand, he took off one of the spurs of his boots and placed it inside his palm. Then he delivered a huge and resounding slap on Esperanza's hindquarters with this hand. The poor mare reared up, neighing in protest, after what she bolted and ran off at full gallop.

"And now, boys, time to hit the road again!"

Two men mounted first while the other two kept their guns at the two hostages. Then the leader handed the little girl to 'red-scarf', and he mounted in his turn, as did the last man.

All along, Araceli couldn't take her eyes off her daughter. She pleaded for them to let her go, repeatedly called the girl's name in a heartbreaking voice and promised to give them everything they asked for if they released Leonor right then, but it was to no avail.

"What we ask for is eight thousand pesos tonight. Nothing more, nothing less. Eight thousand pesos. Repeat this to de la Vega. Now have a nice walk back, it will only be two hours to Los Angeles, I guess."

And with a teasing and overly polite bow to her, they ran off. One of them even briefly looked back to blow her a kiss before catching up with the others.

Zorro began to breathe again: now the kidnappers only had one hostage left. Things would be far easier for him. He wasn't too worried for Señora Valdès; after all the man had been right: she would just have to walk back to the pueblo. Not the most chivalrous thing to think, but right now the priority was Leonor. The señora would certainly agree. And with any luck, he could even free the child and catch up with her mother on the way back.

But as he was about to mount on Tornado's saddle in order to follow the gang of abductors, he noticed something from the corner of his eye: as soon as the men had left, Araceli had gone to her discarded remaining pistol lying on the ground at the foot of a bush, and despite her tied hands she tried to grab the worn-out shooter. It wasn't easy since her hands were behind her back and she wasn't seeing anything of what she was doing.

_Of course!_ Zorro thought: the deafening sound of a gunshot in the silence of the desert wouldn't fail to alert any patrol she knew were currently searching the vicinity of Los Angeles. She probably just hoped one of these wasn't too far from there.

Except she didn't know that if she ever managed to fire the gun, there was a possibility that it might just explode in her back, killing or seriously injuring her.

Zorro's priority suddenly changed, and he rushed to her.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

After having been attacked from behind, groped, held at gunpoint, punched in the face, after having seen her daughter be threatened by two pistols, after having been tied up and abandoned in the desert by a gang of brigands who took her child away from her, Araceli saw a giant black-clad masked and armed bandit suddenly pounce on her while she was kneeling on the ground, half tied up. She screamed, called for help, struggled, writhed, bit, and eventually tried to headbutt him, but after he managed to knock the pistol out of her tied hands she finally noticed that he let go of her and even took a step back.

That's when she realised he had been talking to her all along:

"...God's sake, Señora, calm down! I swear I mean no harm! Please calm down, I won't hurt you..."

"Leave me alone! Go!" she shouted.

"Señora, please, listen to me! I just want to help you!"

"Go away!"

"Señora..."

But despite her panic, she noticed that the man had a gun at his belt, a scabbard with a sword, a dagger in each of his boots and even a whip. The man could swear whatever he wanted, these 'details' didn't contribute to reassuring her.

Even less so when she saw him put his hand to his boot and pull a sharp dagger out of it.

She cringed and flinched, crying out in fear. But the man in black reached behind her; she felt a sharp tug, and suddenly her hands were free.

She didn't understand. But she remembered the other dagger: in a flash she reached to his other boot and quickly took the knife out of it. But the man had excellent reflexes and she didn't have time to threaten him with it before he knocked it out of her hand.

But she didn't concede defeat just yet and started pummelling him. He quickly caught her wrists and easily immobilised her hands, without even breaking a sweat. _Dios,_ she thought, _he was strong!_

"For God's sake, Señora, hear me out! I'm here to help you, not to attack you! I know what this looks like, but appearances are deceptive: I'm on your side. And on Don Alejandro's. I'm here to help your daughter..."

She watched him, her jaw tight.

"You're hurting me," she then simply told him, wincing.

He stupidly looked at her, and then suddenly realised he'd been squeezing her wrists very tightly. He released her and helped her up.

"Sorry about that," he said.

Apparently she recovered very quickly since she immediately threw a punch in his face, calling him a liar.

_Ow,_ it hurt. That woman was quite a handful, he sighed inwardly.

He grabbed her wrists again and pinned her hands behind her back to immobilise her arms, thereby encircling her with his own arms. That move propelled her forward flat against his chest, in an unintentionally very intimate position. She was now too terrorised to notice it, and he was still a bit angry at her for the blow he'd just received to pay attention to it either.

"Now you'll listen to me," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm a friend of Don Alejandro's. Or well, sort of... I know what has happened to your daughter, and with each passing second you spend fighting me the kidnappers are running away and covering their tracks. So now I will release your hands and you will let me get on my horse and run after them. Agreed?"

She eyed him suspiciously, scrutinising his black silken mask. Then she very slowly nodded. Only then did he seem to realise that her lips were only a few inches below his, and that he was pressing her very womanly body against his. This was a highly ambiguous and very improper position, even more so as he remembered that Señora Valdès was his father's... what, exactly?

Well, he decided he didn't want to know anything more precise about his father and this woman. Knowing that they had conceived a child together a few years earlier was disturbing enough, thank you very much.

He hastily let go of her wrists and took a big step back. And another one.

She looked at him questioningly:

"Are you... are you really trying to bring her back to me?"

"I swear it, Señora. I'm sorry I can't give you a ride to the de la Vega hacienda right now, but..."

He whistled. Nothing happened. He whistled again, another 'tune'. Araceli saw a horse, a magnificent black stallion, trot to him. He whispered something in his ear. The horse ran off and soon came back with Don Diego's mare in tow!

"I thought she'd have run back home to the de la Vega hacienda!" Araceli said.

"Hmm..." he answered, "sometimes wounded animals just hide to lick their wounds..."

They took a look at her hindquarters: a small cut was bleeding, but she otherwise seemed to be alright. The man in black whispered some soothing words in the mare's ear and she laid her head on his shoulder. Araceli thought that this animal was really very docile and gentle. Very trusting.

The bandit in black whispered again to the mare and then told Araceli that Don Diego's horse would bring her back to the pueblo.

She was about to bend down to pick up the ancient pistol when the man lashed his whip at it and sent it join its counterpart in the water.

"You– you– you... You could have hurt me!" she shouted.

"Sorry Señora, but I'm afraid this relic is more dangerous for the one who's pulling the trigger than for the one who's being shot at..."

He swiftly helped her on the saddle, then he mounted his stallion. He noted that she sat astride and not sidesaddle. Her skirt was torn in at least three places and on two to five inches long each.

"We now go our separate ways Señora," the black man went on, "and when you see Don Alejandro, give him Zorro's regards... But if you see the alcalde or his soldiers, please don't tell them you saw me: we're not on the best of terms... _Hasta luego_ , if we ever meet again!"

And he simply rode off in the same direction as the kidnappers.


	9. Ch 9 - Zorro to the rescue

The kidnappers had been riding for a quarter of an hour before Zorro joined them: they had ridden in no haste, since they didn't think they were being immediately followed, and also because they had been covering and erasing their tracks.

But Zorro had seen what direction they had taken when they left, so he just had to follow this path and then spot here and there a hoof print or any clue that they didn't fully took care of in their unplanned new retreat and relative hurry to find a new temporary bivouac: some broken twigs on a bush, some too evident trace of sweeping on the dirt path, intended to hide the prints left by horseshoes, some sideway narrow path that seemed to have been cleared or enlarged very recently...

And here they were: the four men on their four mounts, with the tied-up child straddling the second horse and secured by the rider's right arm firmly encircling her.

The first bandido, the gang leader, was leading the march with a pistol in his hand, probably in case something unpleasant for them showed up ahead. The second one, as said before, was in charge of their little but precious hostage. The third one too was holding a gun, and the last one was half-turned back, busy watching the erasing of their hoof prints by a bunch of small branches, twigs and dry wild grasses bound together in a makeshift broom tied to his mount's tail. The horse was sweeping it from side to side, and the man had another branch of twigs with dried leaves in his hand with which he was furthering the covering of their tacks when necessary, making the dust of the ground look more natural whenever the horse was leaving too much of a trail behind them.

Zorro quickly assessed the situation: four men advancing slowly, one busy looking back and down, two armed, one holding a hostage.

He couldn't attack from front, for fear the second man might harm the little girl while he was busy fighting the first one. Or he could very well take a bullet by the third man...

He couldn't attack from either side: the two armed men would have fired at him before he reached them, or would have harmed the girl.

The only remaining possible course of action was to attack from behind, even though he was usually rather reluctant to do so: it lacked elegance, courage, and generally speaking, _chivalry_ , but sometimes safety and wisdom commanded over just showing off, so he resorted to this undignified strategy.

He had to discreetly neutralize the last two men one by one, unnoticed by the other bandits, so that he can then either reach the child, snatch her from her kidnappers and gallop away with her, or fight and disarm quickly enough the last two men.

And he started to do just that. The last bandit got down his mount to better mask their change of direction when at a crossroads they took a narrow side path meandering up the hills. The man arranged the bushes along the main road so that the entry of the path wasn't visible, or at least didn't appear to have recently been ridden through. Zorro jut made the most of him being isolated and off guard to quickly and silently neutralise him, taking the time to gag him with his own scarf and to tie his hands and feet with the bridles of his own saddle.

Now he had to act before the three other men noticed their accomplice's absence was too long for just setting and checking the camouflage.

As silently as before, he led Tornado up to just behind the third bandit, who was a bit too much on alert for his liking. He'd had to be fast, he knew that.

But _'more haste, less speed'_ , according to the old saying. And he also remembered Emperor Augustus and the Medicis: _'make haste slowly'_. _Festina lente,_ indeed. So, still riding Tornado, he very slowly and silently drew his sword out of his scabbard and transferred it to his left hand; then with his left hand he took hold of his whip while Tornado was walking on his own behind the third man's horse.

By command of his legs only, Zorro urged him to a trot and led him right beside the last horse. There, using the tip of his sword he quickly pierced the hand with which the third bandit was holding his gun while with a single lash of his whip he disarmed the first one. Making the most of the three men's surprise, he swiftly jumped on the second bandit's horse right behind the man, took a solid hold of the little girl and, punching the man, he forcibly made him dismount. Or rather, he threw him off his mount.

Holding the girl tightly against his chest with one arm and his sword in the other hand, he tried to urge the horse in gallop. But that horse was no Tornado, and wasn't accustomed to him either, so it didn't comply; and since Zorro had his hands otherwise occupied and had still not managed to take hold of the reins, the animal managed to finally get rid of his new unexpected and annoying rider by rearing up.

Zorro and the child fell to the ground. The man did his best to shield the girl from the impact, folding his tall body into a ball, hugging her close to his chest and protecting her head with his arms and hands. Reacting immediately, he grabbed his sword and had to release his grip on the girl to get up on his feet, in a defensive stance. A few feet away from him Leonor, still gagged and her hands tied behind her back, tried to let out a shout; but it was muffled by her gag and it turned into a terrified throaty growl. Her eyes were wide with fear and she tried to get on her feet and run away but she tripped and fell down on the dusty ground.

Zorro quickly assessed the situation. The bandit he had injured was holding his hand and crouched down, whimpering and trying to tend to his wound. This one was no immediate danger to him.

The one who was previously holding the child was still on the ground but had drawn his pistol and was trying to aim at him. Zorro rolled to the side to dodge the bullet that followed its course somewhere up the hill. The man then discarded his now useless pistol and drew his sword, trying to get up. But he must have hurt his leg in his fall since he couldn't stand on his feet and tripped with a wince before falling on his knees with a cry of pain.

The last man had retrieved his pistol in a bush and in addition had picked up Zorro's whip. With a well aimed lash he disarmed the Fox of his sword and held him in respect with his gun.

"I don't have the first idea who the hell you are," he told Zorro, "but the young senorita here is _ours_. You'll have to find your own rich hostage if you want to play this game! Now I leave you the choice: be on your way or die."

And as if to stress his words, he flexed a bit his index finger on the trigger, in a clear indication of what he intended to do if the man in black didn't comply.

Meanwhile, the other bandit had wobbled to him and had now the tip of his sword on Zorro's neck. Fortunately, the third bandit was still busy trying to stop the bleeding of his half skewered hand and wasn't paying them any attention.

Still, this was a tricky situation for Zorro. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the little girl doing her best to stand up without the help of her tied hands and trying to walk away. The kidnappers too saw her.

"Hey!" the man with the pistol shouted at her, "stay here, little one!"

To punctuate his command, he gave a whiplash in her way. Zorro noticed the man took great care to aim it a good six or seven feet ahead of her; interesting, he thought: the man didn't want to hurt her, as it seemed, but only meant to scare her.

And it worked: she stopped dead in her track.

But this short interlude gave Zorro the diversion he needed: making the most of the two men being distracted by the girl's attempt to flee, he swiftly did a back flip to escape the man's blade; on landing, h plunged his right hand in his boot and took out one of his knives which he threw at the other man's left hand: the latter dropped his pistol and gave a lash off the whip at the man in black. But Zorro dodged it by diving to the side, retrieving his sword in the same movement. He very quickly disarmed the limping man of his blade and punched him in the guts to knock the wind out of his lungs for a few seconds. In the mean time he jumped to the last bandit and pierced his right hand to make him drop the whip, after what he cut his customary Z mark in the man's jacket.

Before the man had recovered he picked up any weapon, gun, knife, sword or else they had to prevent them from using these on him – or on the girl. He then whistled to Tornado: he always had some rope in his saddlebags, just in case.

But just as he turned back to the kidnappers he had just defeated, he saw that the three remaining men had recovered enough and had already mounted their horses: before he could do anything else, he heard their leader shout:

" _¡_ _Vámonos_ _muchachos!_ Strategic retreat!"

And when Zorro was back on Tornado's saddle, they were already gone.

He was about to run after them when he spotted the child crouched on the ground, growling through her gag and wriggling to free her hands from the ropes. She looked shocked, and lost, and terrified.

On the one hand, three bandits running way...

On the other hand, a lost and terrified little girl...

Zorro felt torn. His natural element was his fight against crime, at least when he was wearing this mask and outfit, so running after the bandits seemed almost like a reflex to him. But even though the girl was now out of danger, something inside him was telling him that leaving a frightened child alone in the middle of nowhere, even for only a few minutes, wasn't the done thing. He suddenly had a flash of a terrified little boy crying in the middle of what had recently been a battlefield. At that time he had almost instinctively known what to do, on the moment. He looked at the direction the kidnappers had just taken, hesitated for on more second, and then sighed. Sometimes playing the hero wasn't the best choice.

Reluctantly, he decided to stay with her and bring her back right then rather than run after her abductors. Slowly dismounting from Tornado, he looked at her. She was now standing in the middle of the path, unmoving, at a loss as to what to do or what had happened. She was still gagged, her hands were still tied behind her back, her dress was a dusty rumpled mess; her black hair was unevenly cut above her shoulders, roughly at the level of the nape of her neck. Her eyes shone with unshed tears of fright.

Zorro looked at her intensely.

So. This was his father's illegitimate and secret daughter...

His _father's_ daughter. The thought still seemed unreal to him. This was hard to fathom. His father... so seemly... so dignified... so respectable... so proper...

His _own_ father...

These kinds of things happened everyday everywhere in the world, of course he knew that... The world, the societies were full of such situations. But... but... but it happened to _others!_ To other _families_ , to others' fathers...

Only... just not to _them!_

He incredulously stared at the girl.

He ran a hand over his face, stopping when he felt the mask and remembering the current situation. With his thumb and index finger he squeezed his eyes, as though to make a mirage go away, but when he opened them again she was still there.

And suddenly, another thought came to his mind. He marvelled at the fact that he hadn't made the connection before, that it didn't occur to him earlier: if this child was his father's daughter, then it necessarily made her his... his...

 _Oh Dios!_ He had a little sister!


	10. Ch 10 - Silent ride

Zorro was riding Tornado slowly, aware of the stiffness of the child sitting right before him. He could feel that he girl was very tense, even though she wasn't shouting anymore and had finally stopped struggling against him. She now seemed to have resigned herself to whatever her fate was to be, but he could tell she still didn't trust him, trust his words of reassurance as to her safety with him.

At first, just like her mother, she had been afraid of him and had tried to fight him, when all he was trying to do was to help her. He freed her from her ropes and her gag, only to have her scream out and try to run away. Of course he quickly caught up with her before she had made only a dozen steps and he tried to explain that he didn't mean any harm, that he was here to help her. She didn't believe him or didn't even listen, called for her mother, then for her – _their_ – father; she flailed about and even tried to scratch with her small nails whatever part of his face wasn't covered. She began struggling and wriggling in his arms, to no avail of course: her poor six-years-old strength was no match for Zorro's grip. He tried to be as gentle as possible though, and that's only when he promised her he was going to bring her back to her parents, to her father's home, that she finally seemed to give up the fight and let him take her to his horse.

He could feel the girl was still frightened, and he knew that any brusque move could have her shouting or in tears. Or both. With a great probability that she'd try to flee again. That's why instead of urging Tornado into a gallop as he so much wanted to in order to 'deliver' her to the hacienda and to the safety of faces she was familiar with as soon as possible, he had his stallion gently and calmly walk through the desert.

At that sedate pace the ride to the hacienda would take long, he knew that. On the other hand, the pueblo wasn't too far, and de Soto and his men were probably not back there yet, so the risk for him to be caught was minimum. He could still entrust the padre with her care and ask him to bring her home: after all, she now knew him a bit, since he was the one who travelled to San Diego to expose Don Alejandro's request to Senora Valdez and explain her the reason why he thought he now had to make Leonor's existence known in Los Angeles and why now had come the time to introduce the girl to his son.

Zorro let out a sigh: he still wasn't totally at ease with that idea, far from it. How could he? This was still all too fresh and too sudden to him! He didn't know what else tell the girl apart from reassurances that he didn't mean any harm. But she was still holding herself very stiff and tense against his chest, and himself wasn't feeling terribly relaxed in her company.

Yes, the best course of action was to pay the padre a daily visit which he hoped would be as discreet as possible, and leave his young... _sibling..._ in the priest's company. The good padre would then bring her back to the hacienda, or at least send a message for someone to pick her up at the presbytery.

In a very awkward silence, the two of them slowly rode to the pueblo, with Zorro still looking out for patrols.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Leonor barely dared breathe. She felt frightened.

In the morning, after they'd left the inn, she's been quickly showed around her papá's hacienda hand in hand with him; she had been excited to finally see where Papá lived, and he had to tell her to stop bouncing.

He had then led her to the garden. There, Papá had picked a rose and had removed all the thorns before planting it in her hair with a gentle smile on his face. Leonor remembered she had giggled when Papá had struggled with the blue ribbon tied in her long black hair. Mamá had to come help him, saying that his fingers were too used to handle the pommel of a sword or the reins of a horse, but that he severely lacked dexterity with his daughter's hair. Papá had replied that he was probably a bit nervous at the moment, but Leonor didn't understand why. Sometimes grown-ups were just plainly weird.

Then Papá had called a servant who led her and Concepcion to the bedroom she would sleep in for the duration of their stay. Leonor had taken her book and sat in an armchair while Concepcion unpacked her luggage. That's when the mean men arrived through the window. She shuddered at the memory.

A bump on the road suddenly made the big black horse jump and Leonor felt the masked man in black tighten his grip around her.

After Mamá had tried to free her and was hit by the mean man, this other bandit had attacked the mean señores, had cut her ropes, and had taken her with him.

This one was even more frightening than the others: he was taller, he was entirely clad in black from head to toes, he had a cape that made him look like a bat, and he was wearing a strange black mask. Instead of just having a scarf hiding the lower part of his face, he had a mask like the ones people wear on a masquerade ball, except it wasn't Carnaval! His mask hid the upper part of his face, leaving only his moustache, his jaw , his lips and his chin to be seen. He was terrifying.

He said he would bring her back to Mamá and Papá, and she wanted to believe him, but now she was sure it was a lie. The other men too said they didn't want to hurt her, but they had hurt Mamá; she was sure they were liars, and this other mean señor was probably a liar too.


	11. Ch 11 - The blacksmith

Decidedly, Don Alejandro grumbled inwardly, this day was going from bad to worse! Now his mare had lost a horseshoe!

He let out a heavy sigh: for now he would have to go back to the pueblo and let the patrol carry on with the search party without him... And while he would lead Dulcinea to the blacksmith farrier, Leonor was God knows where, probably wondering why her father hasn't saved her yet!

Frustrated, he tightened his grip on the reins, feeling that his faithful mount was failing him at the worst time. Walking beside her on the way back to the pueblo, he urged her perhaps a bit too fast for a horse that was lacking a shoe.

The pueblo... The soldiers did only ride through it since the morning, without taking the time to stop there. No one would know there about Leonor's abduction, or even about her parentage. On the one hand Alejandro felt relieved: he could hardly bear the pitying looks he had been receiving since Gilberto's death, he really didn't want to feel these same look on him about his daughter's kidnapping: even in hardship, he still had his pride.

But on the other hand, if word about Leonor's abduction ran around the pueblo, there would be a great chance that it came to Zorro's ears... And Alejandro certainly could do with some help from the masked fox: he trusted him far more than de Soto and all his men to find and save his little girl.

Alejandro decided that after a stop at the blacksmith and a short prayer at the church – which certainly couldn't hurt and wouldn't go amiss – he'd go to Victoria and ask for her help: she and her tavern were the best way to spread information and have a message conveyed to Zorro. In his current grief and worry he couldn't care less about confessing his past misconduct to her, or to anyone for that matter. His priority was Leonor's safety. He didn't even think anymore about reputations or people's opinion.

He looked again at Dulcinea, resenting her a bit against his better judgement: _why did you have to fail me_ _ **now**_ _?_

Sighing, he quickened his pace even more.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Guillermo Muñoz, blacksmith by trade, could tell Don Alejandro was in a foul mood. He hardly uttered a couple of words, explaining that he wanted him to shoe his mare as fast as possible and that he would pay him twice the price for the service.

The man looked flustered and angered, and Guillermo knew better than dealing with a visibly angry Alejandro de la Vega. He therefore got to the task silently, not asking him anything, without even trying to make small talk.

And honestly, Guillermo could understand the older man's mood: yes, if himself had a son like his... Poor Don Alejandro! He looked tired, distressed and even worn-out. It was as though the man had aged ten years in one day.

Yes, poor Don Alejandro, indeed... Not only was his son a cowardly weakling, but now he had also disgraced the name of the de la Vegas by fathering a bastard – and having it now known to everyone in Los Angeles! Well, Guillermo reflected, Don Diego was far from being the only man guilty of such a lapse, and probably even here in the pueblo among caballeros and peons alike, but at least they weren't found out! Yes, bedding women was a pleasant game you could play as long as you didn't get caught...

Out of the corner of his eye, Guillermo saw another rider arrive in the pueblo. He took a better look: well well well, talking about the devil... He recognised Esperanza, Don Diego's mare; but she was mounted by the very woman who came the day before by the stagecoach! The mother of the bastard girl!

Unsurprisingly, Don Alejandro hurried to her. Guillermo couldn't hear was they told each other, but the old man became even more upset. She tiredly dismounted and fastened her horse to the hitching post; her shoulders were slumped.

She made a few steps across the plaza, accompanied by Don Alejandro. Suddenly they weren't out of earshot anymore and Guillermo could catch a few words of what they were saying. He pretended to be very focused on his task, not looking at them, but curious to learn more about the tricky situation Don Diego had put the de la Vegas in, he concentrated on his hearing:

"Yes I know this man," Don Alejandro was telling her. "Well, sort of..." he added.

She said something the blacksmith couldn't catch.

"No, I don't know who he is. No one does. But if he knows, then there is hope."

"I need more than hope," she answered. "I need facts."

Don Alejandro murmured something Guillermo didn't hear.

The woman let out a heavy sigh.

"Hmm yes..." she finally reluctantly let out. "Yes I suppose you're right. That's the only thing we can do for now anyway... I'm heading to the church."

She certainly could, the blacksmith thought. A woman who had strayed... a woman with an illegitimate child... yes she certainly could do with some repentance: she had much to atone for... And anyway, now everyone would be expecting Don Diego and her to finally do the right thing and get married. As soon as possible. In fact, they should have done this _years ago!_

Yes, they'd better seek the padre right now. But why hadn't Don Diego come with her? Was his absence what had outraged Don Alejandro when he helped the woman dismount?

Surely his son wouldn't refuse to marry the woman he had disgraced, right? Granted, it was common knowledge here in Los Angeles that Don Diego wasn't much into marriage, but considering the circumstances, he now didn't have his say in the matter anymore: he simply _had_ to marry the girl.

The blacksmith sneaked a glance at them. Shocked, he finally noticed her untidy state of dress: she was dusty as though she had rolled on the ground, her hair was rather dishevelled and, to top it all, her skirt was rumpled and torn in at least two places. His eyes went wide: what on earth did just happen between her and Don Diego?

And just _where_ was he right now?

Stunned, Guillermo also noticed on her cheek the distinct mark of a reddish bruise as she passed by his forge. Surely... surely Don Diego didn't...

He wouldn't... would he? Admittedly Diego de la Vega wasn't the bravest man in Alta California, far from it; and contrary to what people had thought for a long time, he obviously wasn't the most virtuous either, after all... But still... he wouldn't sink so low as to lay a hand on a woman who wasn't his wife – _yet_.

 _Don Diego,_ of all people! Don Diego, who claimed he despised violence and wouldn't hurt a fly! Something didn't ring quite right, here...

Guillermo turned his attention back to Dulcinea's hoof. He heard Don Alejandro's voice tell her, still sounding grim:

"I'll join you in the church in five minutes. I hope Padre Benitez is there, but first I have to go back to the blacksmith..."

Guillermo's mind worked full speed: the padre... Don Diego's absence... Don Alejandro joining her... to the church... to talk to Padre Benitez...

Oh, _Madre de Dios!_ It suddenly dawned on him: Don Alejandro would have to stand in for his failing son, and make an honest woman out of this fallen girl _himself!_

Yes, in the old man's mind that was probably the only remaining way to fix the situation and to save what could still be salvaged of the de la Vegas' good name... All this because his good-for-nothing of a son publicly shirked his responsibilities and wouldn't act like a man even for only once in his useless life!

Poor, poor Don Alejandro indeed. What had he done to deserve such a failure and a disgrace of a son?


	12. Ch 12 - Family reunion

Zorro was quietly riding unnoticed around the pueblo in order to reach the backdoor of the church without being seen when he spotted Dulcinea fastened to the hitching post on the plaza. And right beside her was Esperanza.

Good, both his father and the girl's mother were there. He wouldn't need the padre, after all: he could hand little Leonor over to her parents. Directly.

And as a sign, Don Alejandro was slowly crossing the plaza to his mare.

Zorro changed direction and gently urged Tornado to the pueblo's main gate.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was wiping a table on the porch of her tavern when she heard one of her patrons comment:

"Oh, here's Don Alejandro."

"Oh, really?" another customer asked. "I saw his horse but I didn't know where he was."

"Well, he's just come out of the church."

Victoria glanced at him: he must know that his son's paternity had become public knowledge by now... Perhaps she should go to him and see how he was doing?

Wait a minute... the church?

Oh... oh, he had probably gone to the padre to arrange for his son to...

Urgh... something slightly unpleasant suddenly rolled in her stomach. She hoped she wasn't going to be unwell; she hadn't slept very well the previous night. Perhaps she was coming down with something? In fact, she had been feeling rather down the whole day, as though something was constricting her chest, weighing on her lungs and heart. And yet she had been perfectly well just the day before!

"Zorro!" someone shouted, rousing her from her sour thoughts.

She sharply looked up from the table she had been wiping for a good minute and saw her hero mounted on Tornado, right under the pueblo's gate. But he wasn't exactly alone on his horse...

He was clutching little Leonor against his chest. What did that mean?

Victoria was puzzled as to what the child was doing with him, and she then turned her gaze to Don Alejandro to seek an explanation.

She saw his eyes widen, and he opened his mouth as if to say something but no sound came out of it. His whole attention seemed to be focused on the little girl Zorro was holding close against his chest.

When she spotted Don Alejandro in the middle of the plaza, the child wriggled again in Zorro's arms. He let go of her and she let herself slide down the saddle and the black stallion's side, landing on her knees.

Not paying attention to her fall or to her scratched knees, she was quickly back on her feet and rushed to Don Alejandro, tripping twice in her race.

"PAPÁ!" she cried out loud and clear, throwing herself in his arms with a sob.

The whole plaza went silent, with the few people there staring at the two of them with eyes as wide as saucers.

_Papá?_

Did she just call him–

_What?!_

Don Alejandro, for his part, didn't pay attention to the reaction around him: he had lifted her from the ground and was now standing in the middle of the plaza, clutching her close to his chest with his arms wrapped around her. He was holding her so tight that a leaf of paper couldn't have been slipped between them. Then he raised his head from where he had buried it in the crook of her neck and started to shower her face and hair with kisses.

"Mi cariño," he breathed, "oh, mi cariño, mi cariño," he repeated over and over.

Out of the blue, Victoria noticed that the child's black hair was much shorter – and messier – than it had been in the morning.

"Papá!" the little girl suddenly protested, "Papá, you're crushing me!"

He looked at her, as though he didn't understand what she just said, before it finally registered and he loosened his grip a bit. A _very_ slight bit.

"Sorry, cariño," he softly told her.

Suddenly Victoria saw a flash of sky-blue something rush from the front of the church an throw itself at them.

"Leonor!" Señora Valdès cried out, joining Don Alejandro in hugging and kissing her daughter. "Oh, mi amor..." she said between wet kisses and sighs.

A few tears of relief were rolling on her cheeks but she didn't seem to care or even to take notice of it. She was clutching to her daughter as if she was trying to take her from Don Alejandro's arms and have her all to herself, but he didn’t let go of her and the three of them were therefore holding themselves very close, with the little girl as the link between the older man and the young mother. Again, they were both showering her with caresses, endearments and kisses.

All this had taken only a few seconds, but on the plaza it had seemed as though the time and the world had paused. The dozen people around was eagerly watching this unexpected family reunion, not completely believing what they were witnessing.

But it slowly dawned on Victoria, and probably on the others.

_Don Alejandro..._

Well... That was... _unexpected_ , to say the least. Very much unexpected.

But why was this touching family gathering taking place so publicly in the middle of the plaza and what Zorro had to do with all this were two questions that none of the witnesses had the first clue about.

Suddenly Don Alejandro raised his head at the man who had brought his daughter back to him – yes, his _daughter!_

"Gracias Señor Zorro."

There was barely held back tears in his voice, and his eyes were shining with some dignified wetness.

"Mil gracias," he repeated breathily.

Zorro didn't say anything. He simply nodded gravely at him, answered with a salute and rode off before any soldier could show up.

Without even a glance at Victoria! She wondered if that meant anything. He didn't even address Don Alejandro either, at least not in the spoken form. Never before had he been so awfully silent...

Was something wrong with him?


	13. Ch 13 - Introductions

"Come on, darling, we're going home," Don Alejandro told Leonor. He was still holding her in his arms and was already heading to the hitching post.

"Papá," she told him in a plaintive little voice, "I'm thirsty."

Don Alejandro and Araceli stopped short.

"They haven't given you anything to drink all day, have they?"

Leonor shook her head.

"And I had a handkerchief in my mouth," she said.

"Los cabrones!" he muttered angrily.

"ALEJANDRO!" Araceli scolded him sternly, "watch your tongue before Leonor, please!"

He closed his eyes a split second to collect himself.

"Sorry," he said shamefully, "you're right Araceli, of course. Leonor," he then told his daughter, "please forget what I have just said. It is a very bad word, and I really shouldn't have used it. Mamá and I don't want you to ever say it. Understood?"

She slowly nodded. Whatever Papá and Mamá wanted...

"I'm very thirsty," she repeated.

Her father gently stroke her head and suddenly turned on his heels, walking resolutely to Victoria's tavern.

"And I suppose they didn't feed you either..." he grumbled.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

The tavern had been buzzing with excited conversations when they arrived, the girl still in her father's arms, but the moment they crossed the threshold there was an immediate silence.

Engrossed as they were in contemplating their daughter and fussing over her, Don Alejandro and Doña Araceli were totally oblivious to it.

"Victoria!" he called out as they sat down at a secluded table near the stairs, "lemonade, please, and a jug of water!"

"Well, personally I think I will need something a bit stronger than that," Señora Valdès said. "Bring me please the same as yesterday, Señorita..."

"Si Señora," Victoria murmured.

She quickly retreated to her counter to fetch the drinks. For once she didn't want to intrude, a feeling she rarely experienced. But she realised it was a private moment for them, even though it was taking place in a very public location, and despite her intense curiosity and wish to learn the details of this story, she refrained from imposing on them.

The child was alternatively clinging either to her mother or to Don Alejandro, the two of them nearly rivalling to cuddle her and have her in their arms. She was barely aware of her surroundings, her little world right now coming to be her mamá and her papá, the safety of their arms and the warmth of their chests.

Don Alejandro and Señora Valdès, on the other hand, were slowly becoming aware of the lingering awkwardness surrounding them. Twenty minutes after they came in, as their pitchers were almost empty and Victoria was passing by their table – mostly to discreetly eavesdrop on their quiet conversation as she'd been doing for a few minutes now – Don Alejandro called her:

"Victoria, my dear, could you please come here?"

Until then, she had managed to grasp that the girl had been kidnapped in the morning, that both her parents had been searching her all day, Don Alejandro with the soldiers and her mother on her own, and that she had finally been rescued by Zorro who had heard about it only God knew how.

"Victoria," Don Alejandro told her, straightening himself in his chair, "before we go, let me introduce..." he cleared his throat "Please meet my daughter Leonor."

Victoria could tell he was doing his best to keep his voice even and to look at her in the eyes, but she could feel that he was not terribly at ease and that his normal and almost casual tone of voice was indeed obviously forced. The man was now feeling nervous, even though he was doing his best to hide it.

"Leonor," he then told the child. "Leonor!" he repeated a bit louder to get her to tear her face away from the comforting safety of her mother's bosom. "Leonor, please meet Victoria Escalante. She is a good friend of my family."

Victoria smiled at the girl in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness of it all. She wasn't feeling totally at ease herself, faced with this very unusual situation! What did the social code of conduct say about an old friend of your parents introducing his bastard child to you?

She quickly snapped out of her perplexing thoughts:

"Encantada, Doña Leonor," she said.

The girl stared shyly at her, even though she had already met her the day before. She was feeling a bit afraid to be roused from her blissful little universe and asked to interact with strangers.

"Leonor!" her mother prompted her gently, giving her a look of warning.

"Encantada, Señora," the child finally provided, a bit reluctantly.

"I'm sorry Victoria," Don Alejandro said softly, "Normally she's not that... uh..." He paused. "I think the day has been a bit too eventful. For everyone," he added.

Victoria nodded slowly. For everyone indeed.

"And here is Señora Ximénez de Valdès," Don Alejandro went on. He didn't add that she was the child's mother, as it was very obvious. He didn't clarify the exact nature of the relationship between them either, she noted. Well, some of it was just clear enough, wasn't it?

The señora politely nodded at Victoria and then softly said:

"Well, we've been acquainted since I stayed here last night, but we hadn't been formally introduced. Encantada, Señorita."

"Encantada, Señora," Victoria simply replied. She didn't find anything else to tell her.

"Well, I think we won't be too long before taking this little one home now..." Don Alejandro said, stroking Leonor's hair.

That's when Don Diego entered the tavern in a rush. He scanned the room and when he spotted them, he went straight to their table.

"Father, are you all right? Is everyone all right? Zorro came to the hacienda, he said–"

"Everyone is all right, Diego," his father told him. "Everything is fine, once again thanks to Zorro."

Still standing in front of their table, Don Diego let out a sigh of relief.

And suddenly, Don Alejandro seemed to be sitting on pins and needles. He rearranged is stance twice, wrung his hands thrice, looked at his son hesitantly and finally cleared his throat before saying:

"Hum... Diego?"

If Don Alejandro had been ill-at-ease when he had introduced his daughter to Victoria, she could now tell that it was nothing compared with how he was feeling now that he had to do the same with Diego. The older man was clearly nervous, although he was doing his best to appear collected. Victoria knew it was her cue to leave them, so she retreated to a further table. But she kept her ears acutely focused on the de la Vegas' conversation, even throwing a glance from time to time in their direction.

"Diego, since we're now all reunited," Don Alejandro went on, "I would like you to meet Leonor."

He felt it would be ridiculous to add 'your sister' or 'my daughter', since he knew Diego had fairly well understood what the girl was to him earlier in the morning.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Leonor," Diego forced out of his mouth, even bowing a bit.

The child tentatively raised her head to look at him.

"Leonor," Don Alejandro said again, "meet Diego, my son and therefore your brother. You can see that as I told you, he is all grown up."

She quickly hid her face in her mother's bosom once again.

"Leonor!" Araceli scolded her, afraid that Don Diego might find her daughter ill-mannered.

Prompted by her mother, she finally said in a plaintive voice, with her face still buried in Araceli's chest:

"He's too tall..."

The three of them were slightly taken aback by this unexpected reply, and they stared questioningly at each other for a split second. Then Diego quickly grabbed a chair and sat down.

"I didn't grow to this height on purpose, I swear..." he gently told her.

She ventured another glance at him, and seemed to decide that all things considered, he wasn't some bogeyman of any sort. Yet for all that, she didn't really warm much to him; she was still clinging to her mother.

"Leonor," Araceli told her softly, "where are your manners?"

"Nice to meet you, Señor," the girl said at last in a feeble voice.

Diego simply acknowledged her reply with a nod of his head. Another awkward silence settled between the four of them. Don Alejandro glanced at him; his son was fidgeting with an empty glass, looking from Leonor to her mother and then from the woman to his father.

"I..." he started to say, before pausing.

"Diego, I know–"

Don Alejandro stopped when he realised how silent the tavern had gone. Some of the other customers didn't even pretend not to eavesdrop on their conversation, now. He closed his eyes, barely holding back an annoyed sigh.

"Victoria!" he then called.

She came closer to their table. Not that she had gone very far from it, anyway...

"Si, Don Alejandro?"

"Victoria, my dear," he asked her softly, "is there some place here where Diego and I could have some privacy?"

So Don Diego truly hadn't known before today, she thought. She tried hard not to judge Don Alejandro on that _too_ ; but did he really want to have _this_ conversation with his son _here_? A tavern was hardly the best place for a private and heart-to-heart talk on such a personal matter. But she understood that this conversation had been postponed for too long, partly due to the dreadful events of the day, and both father and son probably didn't want to delay anymore and wait to be back at the hacienda to have it.

"Si Don Alejandro," she answered, "I won't need the kitchen before at least half an hour. Or if you want, there are still a few empty bedrooms upstairs..."

"Gracias Victoria," Diego said, "the kitchen will be perfect."

The two men got up and walked away to the relative quietness of the tavern's kitchen. Araceli and Victoria looked at their retreating backs until they disappeared behind the curtain. The conversations resumed in the main room, even though some customers still threw a glance at the mother and her child from time to time.

Before Victoria went back to her counter, Araceli told her with a slightly unsure smile:

"Something is telling me this is going to take them a while; I hope you won't need your kitchen for some time..."

Victoria nodded.

"In that case," Araceli went on, "would you please bring me another Madeira? And something to eat for my daughter, she must be starving..."

"Mmm not hungry..." the child mumbled against her mother's bosom.

Araceli gave a long and loving caress on Leonor's hair and told her:

"Cariño, you must eat something! You haven't had anything since breakfast, you can't go on with an empty stomach!"

The girl shook her head resolutely.

"And come to think of that," Araceli added, "I haven't eaten anything since breakfast either... In fact, I'm starving! Señorita, could you please bring us something to eat?" She paused, before adding with a knowing smile and a wink: "Something that wouldn't require that you go to the kitchen, that is..."

"I think I have some bread and cheese here, behind my counter. Dried sausage, too. Oh, and olives!"

"Wonderful," Araceli replied.

"Aaaaannd..." Victoria added, leaning to the little girl, "I might even have some biscuits in a jar in case some child might turn up in my tavern... Have you seen any around here?"

Leonor didn't answer, but she involuntarily stirred in her mother's arms, betraying that she had heard and fully understood what Victoria just said.

"Hmmm, no I haven't," Araceli answered, playing along, "but you can still bring some of these too: you know, just in case some little one with a sweet tooth shows up..."


	14. Ch 14 - Father and son

"I still can't believe it!"

"Are you going to repeat this over and over till the tavern's closing time?"

"Well excuse me for having a hard time realising that I suddenly have a baby sister I had never heard about!" a rather upset Diego snapped at his father. "A baby sister you have been hiding to me for six years!"

"Diego, don't raise your voice at me!" Don Alejandro said in a warning voice. "I might have disappointed you but I'm still your father! You still owe me respect!"

Diego slowly ran his hands down his face, sighing.

"Of course, you're right," he said, lowering his voice somehow but still a bit stiffly. "My apologies."

Don Alejandro calmed down and nodded.

"So she's really yours?" Diego asked, fishing for anything. Perhaps his father had chivalrously volunteered to cover up for someone else...?

"Yes Diego, she is."

Diego let out a little sigh, and Don Alejandro watched his face closely, not saying anything.

"Still," Diego went on, "you have to admit it's quite a shock to discover a sister turning up just like that, out of nowhere!"

"Leonor doesn't come 'out of nowhere', as you phrase it: I remind you that she has a mother, just like anyone!"

"Indeed," Diego replied, "let's talk about that woman! You never t–"

"Diego...!" this time Don Alejandro was the one raising his voice, another warning edge in it. "You are _not_ to disrespect Araceli...!"

He gave his son a stern look.

"Especially since she isn't there to stand up for herself," he added. "And don't call her 'that woman', she has a name."

Diego closed his eyes, not very proud of himself.

"You're right, I'm sorry." He sighed again. "But what I mean... you didn't ever tell me about her! Who is she? What are her intentions? I don't know anything about that! You never–"

"She's a good person, Diego. I know what this looks like, but she is a good person. And a good mother."

"I believe you about that last part, she'd walk through fire for her daughter... I'm sure," he added hastily. "But still, I don't know what to think..."

He looked at the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the tavern, as if trying to see through it.

He resumed pacing around the kitchen's central table in long strides, while Don Alejandro was standing in the middle of the room, leaning on this same table.

"For God's sake, Diego, please sit down, your endless pacing in circles is making my head spin!"

Diego didn't sit but only stopped, turned around, and resumed pacing in the opposite direction.

"I can't believe it," he simply repeated for the umpteenth time.

His father grabbed a chair and put himself on his son's way, stopping him by setting the seat right in front of him.

"Diego, my boy," Don Alejandro gently told him, "come on, sit down before you wear a hole in Victoria's pavement."

His son complied, putting his elbows on the table. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed them with his thumb and index just like he did earlier in the afternoon, then ran again his hands over his face – twice, thrice – before looking at his father across the table.

Another heavy sigh.

"Father..." he started, before pausing.

He pinched his lips, searching for his words.

Gesturing in the general direction of the tavern's main room and of Leonor and her mother, he began to ask:

"How...?"

Not finishing his question, he gestured again vaguely in the child's general direction.

His father unexpectedly chuckled.

"Really Diego," Don Alejandro told him with a slightly amused note in his tone, "if you don't know the answer to that question, then there's been serious gaps in the education I tried to give you."

Alejandro's attempt at joking didn't lighten Diego's mood. At all.

Quite the contrary, in fact.

"It's hardly funny, Father. And to tell you the truth, I'd rather not think about–"

He made a face.

Alejandro sobered.

"Diego, hijo..." he started to say.

"How... How could you...?" Diego seemed to be at a loss. Not angry, _at a loss_. "How could _she_...?" He stared at his father. "Honestly, Father, what kind of woman would... You say she is a good person, and I'm ready to believe you, but really–"

"Diego! Araceli is a very fine woman. I now she... I know _we_..." He paused. "But don't say any ill word about someone you don't know." He became a bit more agitated. "I know what we did. I know we shouldn't have. But I'm asking you to be respectful toward her. Now, if you really want to blame someone, then blame _me_."

 _Oh, but be sure that I do,_ Diego reflected inwardly. He wisely chose not to voice this thought aloud.

"Father, as much as I admire your willingness to act gentlemanly toward Señora Valdès by taking the blame on yourself, my concern as a son is first and forem–"

"Diego, my son, you have nothing to worry about," Don Alejandro assured him.

"Well, excuse me for worrying about my father!" Diego retorted. "For being concerned that a young and charming woman happens to find a rich and older successful landowner who could be her father suddenly irresistible!"

"Diego," Alejandro warned him, "I really don't like the way you're talking about Araceli... I've already told you to speak of her respectfully, she's the mother of your sister!"

He too ran his hands over his face to calm down. A family trait, perhaps?

"And what you just said was not terribly flattering for me either, I must say..." he added. "Diego, I understand your concern about discovering a woman...." He didn't finish his sentence. "Whatever. But I'll have you know there was nothing 'sudden' in this, contrary to what you just said. Well, I can understand how to you it _seems_ sudden, but in truth it happened years ago. And it's been over for a long time, too..."

He sighed. What a mess he has gotten himself into!

"I should have told you long ago, Diego, I know. I'm so sorry..."

Diego barely dared to ask his next question:

"Father... how did... what happened...?" he whispered.

Alejandro stared into space, suddenly recalling a nice garden at nightfall and the subtle smell of honeysuckle...

Seeing a small wistful smile on his father's face, Diego breathily asked another question he never thought he would ever dare ask him:

"Are you... were you.... _in love_... with that woman?"

Alejandro snapped out of his reverie and threw his son a slightly reproachful look.

"Diego, I'm your father, I don't think you have the right to ask me this kind of question..."

Diego looked down.

"I'm just trying to understand... to get a clearer idea of all this... I don't mean to intrude, I swear. Is that so wrong to worry for one's father's heart?"

Alejandro reached for his son's hand and gently squeezed it.

"Of course not, Diego, of course not..."

"I just feel a bit lost in all this, Father, so I'd like you to help me understand a bit better..."

Yes, Diego was inwardly asking himself a dozen questions. But the most crucial suddenly seemed to be that one. Had he fallen in love with this woman? Was that why he let himself have an affair with her? And if so, Diego reflected, wasn't it some betrayal of the loving memory of his deceased mother?

And what would bother Diego most: that his father slept with a woman he hadn't even the excuse to love, or that he could love another woman after Diego's mother?

"So," Diego repeated tentatively, "did you fall in love with this wom– with Doña Araceli?"

Don Alejandro ran a hand through his grey hair.

"It's not... That's not... No, that's not exactly what... what we..." Don Alejandro mumbled. "No, no Diego, that's not how things... And anyway, she was far too young for me..."

 _You're telling me!_ Diego thought. But inwardly, he felt rather relieved by this answer. The idea of anyone taking his mother's place, be it in their hacienda or only in his father's heart, didn't sit well with him.

"Father, please forgive me for asking this other question, but... hum... how can you be sure this child is really yours? Well, I mean–"

"I know fairly well what you mean, Diego," Don Alejandro growled, "and I demand you to stop!" He was getting really irritated at his son. "This is highly insulting to Araceli!"

Diego sheepishly stared at the tip of his shoes."I apologise, Father, this was uncalled for..."

"Yes it was!"

"Alright, I take back what I have hinted at. I'm sorry. It's just that, for a lone widowed young woman, having a child with a rich landowner and honourable caballero like yourself could appear as some sort of... guarantee... for the future."

Don Alejandro gave him a very steely look. Mixed with heavy disappointment.

"Don't worry about your inheritance, Diego," his father told him in a very cold voice, "Araceli has never asked me one centavo. Of course I have arranged some things for Leonor in my will, plus one or two others that I have planned for her to have while I'm still alive, but I assure you that the near entirety of what I own will be yours."

Diego was appalled and truly hurt at his father's not so veiled accusation.

"Father, I swear you that's absolutely not what I had in mind. I... I... I swear..."

Father and son were getting very displeased with each other, and Diego knew he had to do something to defuse the situation and clear the air. He therefore reached to his father's hand across the table, cleared his throat, smiled at him and asked in a gentle voice:

"So, tell me a bit about my little sister..."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Having Don Alejandro talk about Leonor – about what she liked, what she disliked, what she was like – had been a nice diversion for Diego, as well as a mean to learn more about this unexpected little sister showing up in his life. He wholeheartedly laughed at some of her child's remarks, sweetly smiled at Alejandro's recollection of the first time he saw her as a newborn, chuckled at his father's description of her as a reckless toddler, as well as at Don Alejandro's obvious lack of objectivity as he evoked her ability to read at the age of four.

But after a while, the talk went back to the subject of Don Alejandro and Araceli, to how his father had reacted to the news about his impending paternity, and the conversation became slightly heated again.

"...and I can't imagine you didn't make amends for that by putting things right!"

"Diego..." Don Alejandro tried to cut in; but his son just got started, and nothing could stop him.

"Really Father, you taught me that a man worthy of the name has to take his responsibilities, _wholly_..."

"Diego..." Alejandro tried again.

"I would think the only honourable thing to do in this case would be to marry the woman, and I thought that was your opinion too..."

"Diego!"

"Since you had known since long before the birth, you _had_ to propose, whatever the circumstances or your own feelings–"

"Diego!"

"Really, I can't believe that you didn't marry her! Honestly Fath–"

"DIEGO!"

This time his father's shout made its way past through Diego's ears and reached his troubled and boiling mind. He quieted, surprised, looking expectantly at Don Alejandro.

The latter sighed, raised his gaze to look his son right in the eyes, and then he simply told him in a slightly sheepish voice:

"She said no."


	15. Ch 15 - Mistress

"She said _what_...?"

Don Alejandro clenched his teeth, but at the same time he threw his son a very weary look. He then let out a small annoyed and despondent sigh.

"Please Diego, don't have me repeat that."

Yes, Diego could imagine what being turned down could have done to his father's self-esteem. And by someone people would then see as a fallen woman, no less! Admittedly, he had 'fallen' with her, but still... anyway that wasn't the point.

Yes, being turned down was probably painful, Diego thought. Almost as painful as being jilted at the altar, he reflected with some sour bile spreading in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth...

 _Well,_ he reasoned, recalling his own sad experience, technically himself hadn't been _jilted_ at the altar, he had been _stood up_ at the altar... Still, it hurt all the same... even after all these years: he might not be in love with her anymore, but with the enthusiasm, the freshness and the naivety of his young years, he had wholeheartedly believed in this sweet dream...

And now what concerned Diego was to know whether his father's dejectedness at the memory of being turned down was a matter of wounded pride, or worse... of wounded _heart_...?

Still, Diego had trouble figuring a lone and pregnant woman refusing the offer of marrying the rich and respectable father who was willing to right his wrongs... He couldn't fathom that.

He just couldn't make up his mind about her.

She didn't seem to give too much importance to people's opinion about her person, as long as she still could afford for her way of life. And she apparently had money, according to the refined dresses she and her daughter had been wearing today, but even more to the fact that she travelled with a chambermaid. And since his father said he didn't financially keep her, then her money had to come from elsewhere... Inheritance, probably. Her late husband's? Yes, in all likelihood. Or was it her parents'...?

On the other hand, Diego remembered that she talked about her _business_ , back there in San Diego. And when she told him about her household knowing about Leonor's paternal parentage, she also talked about her _'other employees'_. Without elaborating any further.

So another question suddenly sprouted in his mind, and he was sure he didn't like the answer that was beginning to form in the back of his mind...

Exactly what kind of _business_ was Araceli Ximénez de Valdès running?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

From her counter, Victoria glanced at Señora Valdès and her daughter. She was holding her child in her lap, and little Leonor was snuggling against her mother's chest, her head pillowed in Araceli's bosom. Señora Valdès had her arms around her daughter gently keeping her close to her heart. She had managed to get the child to nibble some bread and cheese as well as two biscuits.

From time to time the woman sipped her wine, looking idly around her, running her palm along her daughter's hair in long and slow strokes. Victoria wondered what happened to the child's dark hair: it was now undone, tangled and very unevenly cut at neck's length. Still, the both of them quietly cuddling in a secluded corner of her tavern with the rest of the world going on around them were making a very nice picture. A sight which filled Victoria with some sort of... longing.

On the other hand, she noticed that the feeling of unwellness she had been stuck with all day had disappeared. When did it happen? She couldn't remember exactly, but in her memory it had to be around Zorro's earlier appearance, when he brought back little Leonor to Don Alejandro. Then the stunning news about the girl's real parentage had occupied her mind enough to make her totally forget about her own condition. Well, whatever it had been, it was now over and she was again feeling perfectly well, just like twenty-four hours earlier, before the stagecoach arrived.

She looked again at Señora Valdès. She had to admit she still had some trouble imagining that Don Alejandro and her...

Don Alejandro was such a decent and proper man! So seemly, so respectable... so serious! And to imagine that he could have a mistress! A _young_ mistress! She was what... Diego's age, more or less? Don Alejandro of all people, having a mistress! Having an affair with a woman who could be his daughter! Or rather, his daughter-in-law...

Victoria unintentionally made a face at this last thought.

Don Alejandro de la Vega had a secret love child... She still had trouble wrapping her mind around this idea... And poor Don Diego, it was probably ten times worse for him! He had a sister who could be his daughter!

Again she made a face. Was it becoming some sort of reflex?

Poor man indeed: two months ago he suddenly discovered he had a twin brother no one had ever known about, he lost him immediately after, and now a baby half-sister was turning up?! That was a bit too much for one man, and he would probably wonder how many other siblings of his would show up in Los Angeles! Really, Victoria reflected, Don Alejandro shouldn't have hidden his sister's existence from him, even though he didn't want to make it public for the whole pueblo to know! Don Diego deserved to know!

Well, she sighed inwardly, what was done was done, and wouldn't be undone. Yet she couldn't help but wonder how she would feel if someone close to her hid something that big to her. No doubt that when she'd finally learn the truth, she'd feel awfully betrayed! Thinking about that, she understood that Don Diego would need some time to forgive his father not only his moral lapse, but also – and probably even more – the secrecy. And the lies.

Yes, that would certainly hurt a lot, and Don Diego was probably right now experiencing this feeling. She made a promise to be extra kind and considerate toward him in the following days. And patient too, if she was capable of that...

She looked again at Señora Valdès, puzzled. Granted, Don Alejandro was a wonderful man, but, well... he was... uh... _old;_ Victoria couldn't find any other word to state things more diplomatically. And anyway, diplomacy had never been her thing...

But yes, Don Alejandro was admittedly a very nice man with impeccable manners, granted he was still charming and dapper-looking, yet for a young woman, choosing to have an affair with a man this age when there were gentle and good-looking much younger men around... She still couldn't fathom this. Unless, she thought, unless it had something to do with his status? With his prestigious position and name? Or... with his money?

Looking around her tavern, she saw that she hadn't been the only one glancing at the woman. And in some of her patrons' eyes, she could read their thoughts as though they were voicing these aloud. They were saying: _mistress, mistress, mistress! easy-to-get, easy virtue, loose..._

Whatever she was thinking about her, whatever she had done, Victoria didn't like to see a woman being cheapened in the presence of her child – even silently so. Señora Valdès, for her part, didn't seem to care. Or was she just unaware of these looks? She was still holding her daughter close and slowly caressing her head and back with long strokes of her right hand, kissing the top of her head from time to time. Victoria could barely see the child's face, buried as it was in her mother's chest. But she noted that Leonor's breathing was even and deep, in rhythm with her mother's stroking motion. Was she drowsing?

Victoria went to their table, if only to make the stares stop.

"Is everything to your liking, Señora? Do you want something else?"

"Everything is perfectly all right, Señorita, gracias," Araceli answered in a low voice. "Leonor has barely eaten what I have tried to give her, so no, thank you. Oh, by the way, your wine is still as excellent as yesterday's! Quite a good supplier you have there, Señorita!" she added with a smile.

"Indeed," Victoria replied, careful not to raise her voice so as not to wake up the snoozing child.

Señora Valdès took a bite of a biscuit and said:

"These are excellent too, congratulations Señorita."

"My father's recipe," Victoria explained with a smile. "This tavern was his before I took over..."

"Ah... family...!" Araceli replied... "There's nothing like that! Parents, siblings... they will always love you unconditionally," she added with a soft and fond smile.

Victoria smiled by way of agreement. Then she gestured at the little girl in the Señora's lap and said tentatively:

"Now that I know, she looks like her father."

Señora Valdès smiled and nodded slightly.

"Like her brother, too," Victoria suddenly added.

"Ah...? I wouldn't know, I haven't paid much attention to Don Diego I'm afraid. With all that's happened..."

Victoria looked at her for some time.

"He's a nice man, you know..." she then told her. "I don't know how he's reacting to... hum... well..."

She made a vague sweeping gesture, meant to evoke the general situation.

"...but he is a kind man," she went on. "I'm sure everything will be all right... eventually!"

"I hope so. I'd hate for Alejandro and his son to have a row because of me or of Leonor... I'd hate for any bad blood to be between them, to pull them apart," she said in a sad voice. "But," she added resolutely, "I wouldn't let Don Diego take it out on Leonor!"

"Oh!" Victoria retorted a bit too heatedly, "he's absolutely not like that! There is no kinder man in Los Angeles, except perhaps his father of course. I assure you he's not the kind of man who would bear a grudge against an innocent child, and even less who'd lash out at her! He's the gentlest person I know, don't worry."

"Hmm, I don't know... he didn't seem too pleased," Araceli added with a nod of her head toward the kitchen.

"Give him time..." Victoria wisely replied. "You must admit it's quite a shock for him..."

"Yes, I guess so..." She let out a heavy sigh. "I kept telling Alejandro that he should tell him, that he should have told him long ago, that the later he'd wait, the worst it would be for both of them..."

Victoria nodded gravely. Araceli went on:

"We all have our little secrets, things that are no one else's business, but something as big as that... his son had the right to know. I kept telling it, but he always had a good reason to postpone... or rather an excuse! According to him, that was never the good time." She had a small amused smile and chuckled. "I knew he was just plainly terrified."

Victoria had a hard time picturing someone as brave as Don Alejandro being terrified of Diego; well, truth be told, she was having a hard time picturing _anyone_ being terrified of Don Diego... She chuckled, but quickly sobered: we're always afraid of disappointing those we truly love... Her heart went to Don Alejandro, torn between his obligations toward his two children, between his wish to share his secret with Diego and his fear of his son's reaction.

Twice or thrice, she had heard some loud bursts and raised voices come from her kitchen, but without being able to catch what they said. What if things turned sour and they fell out?


	16. Ch 16 - Business is business

"By the way Señora, where do you and your daughter come from?" Victoria asked Araceli in the course of the conversation.

"San Diego."

Far enough for no one to ever find out, Victoria reflected, but close enough for Don Alejandro to go there once every two or three month. Under the pretence of business trips. Of all traits she would have attributed to the de la Vegas, deception wasn't part of it. And yet Risendo came here under a fallacious pretext and hid his lineage and true motives, and now Victoria learned that Don Alejandro had lied to everyone and especially to his own son for years to go visit his second family in San Diego!

Yes, that was quite disappointing. And even a bit hurtful, Victoria reflected. And if _she_ felt hurt, what of Don Diego! Thankfully, he didn't seem to have inherited this deceptive trait apparently running in his family!

She watched the mother and her child, trying to figure what was their life like back there in San Diego.

"It must be hard for you..." she finally ventured. "In San Diego, I mean. Alone with a child..."

Araceli looked at her, surprised.

"Hard?"

Then she seemed to get what Victoria meant.

"Oh," she said, "no, that's alright. We're good." She kissed Leonor's head. The girl was now sound asleep.

Victoria couldn't totally believe her. Having a child out of wedlock... She must have been shunned and ostracised!

"Well," she then told the woman, "people in San Diego must be quite broad-minded, then!"

Victoria realised she unintentionally put a note of slight disapproval in her comment. She couldn't help but judge her. It was hard to cut loose from ingrained system of values...

Señora Valdès stifled a throaty giggle.

"Not much, no... At least not more than anywhere else, I guess."

She gave a pointed look around them. _So she had noticed the stares,_ Victoria reflected. Apparently she didn't care, then. Well, why would she? After all she didn't know anyone in Los Angeles, Victoria reflected.

Still, how was she faring back home in San Diego with this situation?

"People are... illogical," Araceli explained. "And predictably so, as strange as this may sound: they are prone to have an opinion on anything or everything, but thankfully most of them are also pragmatic."

Victoria gave her a curious look, sitting down at her table to better talk with her.

"Money," Araceli simply provided by way of further explanation. "Money is the key."

Victoria's eyebrows rose to her mid-forehead.

"Well, no, not really _money_ , but _power_. Power is the key. If you can be the one in power, then people will pander to you. If you have power, they will abide to you and your ways, whatever they think of you. If they need you, they'll adapt to you. If their interests require that they bear with you, then they'll seem to forget how much they disapprove of your way of life, they'll just turn a blind eye on it... And in the kind of world we're living in, this sort of power comes with money. However unmoral it can be, it's how things work here below; whether we like it or not, we have to make do with that. Plain and simple. As sad as it sounds..."

"I disagree," Victoria retorted. _Was this woman just plainly venal? A gold digger? Was it the reason behind her affair with Don Alejandro?_ "You can't buy people," Victoria went on. "At least not everyone. People aren't up for sale."

"I agree, you can't buy people. You certainly can never buy their feelings or their inner thoughts; you can't buy minds or hearts. But you can absolutely buy people's behaviour..."

Victoria still seemed unconvinced.

"If they have something to sell," Señora Valdès started to explain, "and you're the one who could offer them either the best price, the best guarantees or the best outlet for their goods or services, they won't turn the nose up at your money. Not if they really need it or if you're a good customer, as long as you don't make trouble. I mean, have you ever thrown a customer out of you tavern just because you didn't like him, unless he harassed your other customers or your employees, or started a bar fight?"

Hmm, Victoria reflected, indeed she tolerated the alcalde in her establishment even though he was far from being her favourite person.

"And it also works the other way round," Señora Valdès further explained. "Let's take your tavern, for instance. It's the only one in Los Angeles so if someone wants to have a drink or a meal outside his own home, if he is thirsty or hungry, he _has_ to come here. Even if he doesn't like you or disapproves of you – for whatever reason that would be none of my business. The only other solution would be for him to do without the drink or the meal he wants so much."

Inwardly, Victoria thought again about de Soto: he certainly disapproved of her admiration and repeated support to Zorro, yet he still patronised her tavern; mainly because the garrison's cantina tasted awfully bland. Hmmm yes, perhaps Señora Valdès's hypothesis made some sense, after all...

"Now," Araceli went on, "let's imagine that there were two other taverns in Los Angeles... One that tastes bad, and one that tastes as good as yours but is more expensive. Perhaps among your patrons you would lose some customers: a few of those who strongly disapprove of you might go to your first competitor, even if it meant eating tasteless cooking and drinking plonk. A few others might go to your second competitor, but only the richest ones could afford that in the long run. So all in all, as long as your business is a good and affordable one, as long as you keep up the good work, your tavern will probably still be the most successful one around here... You might have a bit less customers and lose those whose disapproval of you is stronger than the care for their own interest, but eventually, since most people will still need the good service you provide for a decent price, I'm confident they will carry on with patronising your tavern..."

Victoria remained quiet for a long time, pondering what the woman had just expounded to her.

"But," she finally asked, "what if there is another tavern as good and affordable as mine, run by someone everyone approves of?"

"Then you'll lose most of your customers," Señorita Valdès answered matter-of-factly. "Hence the need to simply be the best in your business."

 _Simply_. Easier said than done!

"Just make sure to always have the best price-quality ratio in the area, and to make it known!" Araceli added.

Victoria was mulling this over. Perhaps... perhaps, if it was true... then perhaps...

...would it really be the solution for her to have the children she had been wanting for so long...? Even without getting married to Zorro first? To have children with Zorro? But would he even agree to it?

And most importantly, could she really have a child out of wedlock and not lose her business? Not see herself be shunned and her tavern decline and then collapse for lack of patronage?

After years and years of waiting, she was beginning not to care that much anymore about her reputation and good name if it meant having at least part of the family life she longed for... But could she afford for this? _Money_ , that's what Señora Valdès said: it was the key to this kind of freedom. But Victoria knew she would still need her tavern to earn a living. All the more so with a fatherless child. And the question was: could her business survive such a scandal?

She was far from being as well-off as Señora Valdès seemed to be. And suddenly another question came to her mind: the woman had spoken as though herself owned a business back there in San Diego. What kind of customers wouldn't be too fussy about the scandal of an illegitimate child? What kind of business wouldn't be too much affected by that matter?

What sort of business house, what kind of trade could make do with ill repute?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Diego, for Heaven's sake, we were both widowed at the time! We didn't betray anyone!"

Yes, yes, of course... technically, at least. Still, Diego couldn't help but feel a though his father had trampled on his mother's grave.

"Diego," Alejandro told him in a calmer and gentler voice, "I loved your mother immensely; and I still do, in fact. Only perhaps a bit differently... She's been and will remain the great love of my life... But she is dead, Diego. She's been for a very long time. It took me long enough to truly accept it, and I thought I did my best to help you... to help you deal with that and with her absence. To have you accept it as well. I didn't know it was still that raw for you... I'm sorry. But neither Araceli nor Leonor have anything to do with that."

Diego put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands, sighing deeply:

"I know, I know... of course I know that."

"Diego, my son, look at me..."

Diego raised his head at his father.

"I need you to promise me you won't utter one ill word at Leonor or Araceli. You're troubled and angry, and I can understand that, but don't take it out on Leonor. She's done nothing wrong..."

"Of course, Father, I didn't even think of that. You have my word. It's just that... I don't know what to tell her. I have nothing to tell her."

"You're siblings, Diego... you'll manage, I trust you."

"Perhaps... after all, considering the situation she's the easiest to talk to. As you stated, _she_ didn't do anything."

"I know I've disappointed you, Die–"

"You've betrayed _me_! You didn't even tell me I had a half-sister! I'm not talking about you to confess to the whole pueblo, but– but– I'm your son! And I assure you I can keep a secret." Diego paused to let out a sigh. "Didn't it occur to you that I had the right to know I had more family than I thought? That I might want to know her? To see her grow up?"

"Well, I know I made you miss her first years and I'm also sorry for that; but now you know, and you two will be able to make up for these years!"

"Only because you've been cornered into telling me!" Diego shouted. "Without these men's blackmail I still wouldn't know anything!"

Diego calmed down and went on in a softer voice:

"Understand me, Father... I need to know. Where do you know this wom– Doña Araceli from? Who is she? How did you two meet? How did it all happen? And why haven't you told me anything? For God's sake, I certainly wouldn't have killed anyone! What bad things do you think could have happened if you told me? Except for me to feel disappointed, that is, but we both know I'll eventually get over it... Please Father tell me more... I need to know... to understand..."

Don Alejandro sighed.

"Alright. I should have told you so long ago... I'm certainly not going to give you all the details, but–"

"I certainly don't _want_ the details, Father! But I need to understand why you... how you could..."

Another deep sigh came out of Don Alejandro's chest.

"It was long ago... You... you were in Spain. You had been gone for more than one year, and the hacienda felt so empty!"

"Empty but full of servants and with a little deaf boy to care for..." Diego pointedly commented.

"It's not the same," his father retorted. "Of course I also often met the other haciendados in the pueblo, but still... And I felt...uh..."

"What...? _Lonely_?" Diego asked a bit too aggressively.

"Diego...," Don Alejandro growled, "if you keep on interrupting, it will take even longer!"

"Sorry Father, excuse me. Please, go on."

Don Alejandro wondered where to begin. He recalled this time of his life. Yes, after one year of Diego's absence he had felt... lonely. Was he to begin with that? Or with the several business trips he did to San Diego at that same time?

Was he rather to first tell him about Araceli, her family, her history, who she was, tell him about her business there in San Diego?

Unless he simply started with the sweet fragrance of flowers in Araceli's garden at dusk?

Inwardly, he suddenly travelled back in time and in his memory...


	17. Ch 17 - San Diego

Alejandro remembered...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"Yes, Felipe, I miss him a lot."_

_The little boy then pointed at him and made a sign Alejandro didn't understand. Felipe insisted, and then made another sign. After some difficulty, the man finally understood what the child meant:_

_"If I'm bored?"_

_Felipe nodded, happy and relieved to see that he was finally understood._

_"No, I don't really have time to be bored, you know..."_

_Another sign from the boy._

_"Well, I have much to do. You know Felipe, that's a lot of work to run a rancho as big as this one! Yesterday I went to an auction to buy some cattle, this morning I went to see the tenants, in the early afternoon I had a meeting with my head vaquero, then I had to arrange for a batch of cowhide to be sent and exported to Spain; and tomorrow I have to set off very early on a trip to San Diego to conduct some business deals there. Thankfully, when Diego comes back from Spain he'll help me in these matters, we can share the burden!"_

_Felipe made a sign, counting on his fingers._

_"Yes, it's still four years before he comes back, I know. By this time, you will have grown taller, my young friend!"_

_The child had a large smile._

_"And I will have grown older," Don Alejandro sighed. "And greyer..." he added, making a face._

_On the day after, he had an early start: it was a good two days ride to San Diego. He stopped half way in San Juan Capistrano to spend the night there, and finally made it to San Diego late in the evening, quite raddled. Once at the inn, after a copious meal he went straight to bed._

_The morning after he visited his lawyer: out of sheer courtesy, first, like every time he happened to be in San Diego, but also because he had a few matters to see with him about some piece of land he had recently bought near San Luis Rey._

_"And did you come all the way here to attend to that, Don Alejandro?" the man asked him. "Not that I don't enjoy the pleasure of your company, but we could have done this through mail."_

_"No, no, I have other things to attend to here in San Diego. I'd like to have a look at Jorge Alvarez's horses. They're said to be the most beautiful ones of Alta California, but I hate to blindly buy horses. I know I should trust people, delegate and not do everything myself, but as far as horses are concerned I can't help myself."_

_"Well, you won't be disappointed, he has some truly amazing stallions and mares!"_

_"Really? Good! Oh, and I also have some business transaction to discuss with the Ximénez Company. And I'll have to meet with the Vasquez brothers: the price they've been selling me wine lately has become almost outrageous! If they want me to keep them as the main suppliers of my cellar, they'd better have a good explanation, or I may trade with the Ximénezes for that too..."_

_"Good luck with that! Both firms are run by tough businesspeople..." the lawyer replied. "Now tell me about your son; have you received recent news from Don Diego?"_

_"Yes indeed, and in his letters he is very enthusiastic! About Spain, about his studies, about the friends he made there, about the life in Madrid..."_

_"Tell me about that!" the man said with a knowing smile. "Madrid can be an enticing city for a young man who enjoys the pleasures of life... Don't we know that!"_

_Alejandro made a face, remembering his younger years, but then he chuckled. Enticing indeed..._

_"It is," he agreed, "but as much as I want him to enjoy his time there, I hope he won't have too much fun, if you see what I mean..."_

_"Aaaahh, the charms of Madrilean women can be dangerous for us poor mortals... But there are worse tortures than that, Don Alejandro!"_

_They both smiled._

_"Still, I trust Diego," Alejandro said. "He wouldn't take advantage of an innocent girl."_

_"Well, thankfully for us men, the world was already full of not-so-innocent real women when we were his age!"_

_Again, they both smiled._

_"But I'm sure Don Diego is a very proper young man and a perfect gentleman," he went on. "And who knows, perhaps he'll come home from Spain with a bride on his arm..."_

_Alejandro frowned a bit._

_"Hmm, I think I'd rather not..." he replied. "After all, I'm just like any father, and any father likes to have a say in choosing their children-in-law... As you stated, Diego is still a very young man, and young men in love usually don't think straight. And make decisions devoid of any of the practicalities of life; decisions they might later regret..."_

_"In other words, you'd like to choose his bride yourself, according to your criteria..."_

_"No, not exactly... I wouldn't state it like that... I'd like him to make a good match_ _**and** _ _a love match. Is that too much to ask?"_

_"From my point of view as a lawyer, I can tell you that unfortunately yes, it is apparently too much to ask. Believe me, I've seen many a marriage in my career, and very few of these had those two characteristics."_

_Alejandro sighed._

_"Then I suppose that yes, I'd rather like to choose Diego's future bride myself than have him bring home a total stranger... I can't help it! Is that so bad?"_

_"As your lawyer, I'd say that no, it's very wise of you: my job is to counsel you in your best financial and legal interests. Now as a father... I'm not sure... Perhaps we should trust them and give them a freer rein? For instance, my daughter has just turned down the fifth suitor we had introduced her to. And I'm sure that's precisely because_ _**we** _ _introduced him to her with that purpose in mind... Just for the sake of being contrary! We don't know what to do with her anymore. But on the other hand, I don't want to see her unhappy with a husband she'd have nothing in common with except the fact that their fathers are both lawyers."_

_"Ahhh, children..." Don Alejandro sighed, "I have only one and I'm already worrying myself sick about his future. How can parents who have more children manage?"_

_They both laughed._

_"Don Alejandro, would you do me the honour of your company for lunch? My wife would be delighted, and you might help us knock some sense into our daughter..."_

_"Ah, I'm sorry, I've already been invited by Señor Alvarez for today's lunch."_

_"Oh, all right. Then tonight, perhaps?"_

_"Well, you don't have luck: I'm having dinner with the people of the Ximénez Company. Tomorrow, perhaps?"_

_"Tomorrow at noon, that's a date, then..."_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_The Ximénez Company was an important import-export firm, trading between California and Spain, and more generally between New Spain and Europe. It was Monterey-based, founded fifteen years earlier by a man named Melchior Ximénez, and it now had several branches all over Alta California._

_Señor Ximénez had entrusted the management of each of these affiliates to one of his children. 'Affiliate' indeed. And the San Diego branch was currently run by Ximénez's now widowed eldest daughter._

_The first time Alejandro had to deal with her, a bit more than two years earlier, he thought he would make short work of her in trade talks, and he promised himself not to go too hard on her. Just think! A girl! A youngster! An innocent young thing among the long-fanged wolves of trading business... Someone less scrupulous than he was would simply wipe the floor with her in a serious business negotiation... But with his good heart and his chivalry, Alejandro promised himself he wouldn't swindle her... not too much, anyway._

_Well, he had been in for a surprise when he realised that she was in fact driving a hard bargain! Some 'innocent young thing', indeed! Unprepared to that as he had been then, he was just lucky she didn't take his shirt off his back in their first trade talk... And he didn't even notice it before it was too late for him and his best interests, because she did all this with the most gracious smile on her face and the most charming manners. She was talented, he realised too late... Really gifted..._

_It reminded him an essential lesson he might have forgotten: never underestimate your opponent._

_But Alejandro de la Vega was a good sport, and he had always liked crossing blades with a skilled swordsman. So in his following negotiations he just didn't forget who he was dealing with, and he truly enjoyed it. All the more so that, if Señora Ximénez de Valdès was tough as far as business was concerned, she was also agreeable and good-natured the rest of the time. Not to mention that she had a terrific wine cellar! Well, she could, she imported wine directly from the best vineyards of Spain and even of France._

_And precisely, Alejandro planned to discuss, among other things, the eventuality to perhaps buy his wine from her. Until now he had had another supplier, but he was growing unsatisfied with him... But of course he wouldn't tell her that, or she'd announce a higher price than what he counted on... He had learned his lesson the hard way, and wouldn't let her have the upper hand this time._

_As he made his way to her house, he recalled his previous thoughts about her in the course of the last two years..._

_At first, and once the initial shock about her skills had faded, he had had an idea. A rather pleasant idea: she'd make a very fine daughter-in-law, and an ideal match for his son._

_She was distinguished, well-bred, charming and witty, all of the above making her an ideal daughter-in-law to any caballero. The de la Vegas were very important landowners and produced a great amount of goods to be exported; mainly leather and tallow for Europe, but also bovine meat for the local market. Horses, too. On the other side the Ximénez Company was a successful and growing business, with activities that complemented nicely the de la Vegas'... Yes, on paper, marrying the Ximénezes with the de la Vegas seemed an appealing idea._

_But on second thought, he remembered she was a widow. Not that it was her fault, but it meant she had already been married, making her a 'second-hand' woman. Which was still alright to marry a man in his thirties, but it made her a bit lower-ranked on the marriage market. Like some sort of small flaw that wasn't too serious but prevented her from being labelled 'top-quality bride'. Making her perhaps slightly unsuitable for a never-married very young man such as Diego..._

_Really too bad, Alejandro lamented. The Ximénezes and the de la Vegas... It would have been nice..._

_Anyway. Alejandro went back to the present: his interview with the Vasquez brothers hadn't gone very well, and they had barely lowered the prices they offered to sell him their best vintages. He hoped Señora Ximénez de Valdès would have better prices... He already knew she probably had better wine._

_When he arrived at the small hacienda she lived in on the outskirts of the town, a servant opened the door and let him in. A minute later, the mistress of the house came to greet him._

_"Don Alejandro, that's an honour and a pleasure to have you here. I'm glad you could make it to attend this dinner. I'll make the introductions to those of the other guests you haven't already met."_

_He bowed and politely kissed her hand._

_"Doña Araceli, the honour is mine, as well as the pleasure. You are as charming as ever, I must say."_

_She politely smiled at the conventional compliment._

_"Thank you Don Alejandro, you're too kind. When did you arrive in San Diego?"_

_"Yesterday, two hours before nightfall."_

_"I hope you had a nice journey. Please come, let's join the others in the patio. The wisteria is blooming, you'll see, it's really splendid there..."_


	18. Ch 18 - Of horses and men

_Once in the patio, Alejandro couldn't suppress an involuntary frown: among the guests was Cesar Villegas, of course! He was Doña Araceli's current... well... 'suitor', to put it mildly. Except that 'suitor' wasn't exactly the name, since it was murmured in certain circles that much more than simple 'courtship' happened between the two of them... and anyway Alejandro wasn't sure any of the two considered marriage..._

_At first he had been rather shocked at the liberties Señora Ximénes de Valdès was taking with generally accepted moral standards. But she still had the best goods from Europe and the Ximénes Company still offered the best guarantees of payment for the products he wanted to export. So all in all, he got over his reservations about her lifestyle and chose to turn a blind eye on it. After all, it was none of his business. And precisely, as far as his business was concerned, he liked dealing with her: she was tough, but honest and straight. Rigorous... Straightforward... Never a bad surprise with her or her family... And they always paid on the nail. Never a hitch with her._

_At the time Alejandro made her acquaintance, her 'man of the moment' wasn't this Cesar Villegas but a certain Leandro Alcalá, a lieutenant of the local garrison. A nice man, this Lieutenant Alcalá, pleasant to converse with, bright, refined. As a former officer himself, Alejandro esteemed this man, regardless of his... 'consorting'... with a younger woman he hadn't made his wife. Which made him not that much a gentleman, at least on this level..._

_But despite this slightly unpleasant detail, Alejandro even started to think the man could make a fine role model for Diego, an 'inspiration' on his return from Madrid. A slightly older man... thirty-five years old, perhaps? ...promised to rise in rank... well-bred and refined... straight and involved in the local community... Yes, Alejandro thought, Diego will certainly more or less be like this man in a few years' time..._

_And one fine day, just like that, Lieutenant Alcalá stopped being present at Doña Araceli's dinners. Yet he was still stationed in San Diego, Alejandro saw him. But apparently the relationship between them had ended, according to the grapevine buzzing among people she usually rubbed shoulders with._

_For one year no other man seemed to have taken over Alcalá's role with Doña Araceli or found favour in her eyes. Alejandro went to San Diego a good half-dozen times in the space of this year, and as a good customer-supplier he had sometimes been invited to attend business dinners or other parties at Señora Ximénez de Valdès's._

_And then one day she introduced to him her 'dear friend' Cesar Villegas. She didn't clarify what kind of 'friend' he was, but it soon became obvious that he was her new beau. An euphemism for 'lover', in that case._

_After a few months and three or four encounters with him, Alejandro couldn't really put his finger on why exactly but he thought the man seemed to be a prize idiot. Why Señora Valdès was seeing him was beyond him._

_He politely greeted the man nonetheless, and then let himself be dragged away by Doña Araceli who led him to another young man in the place._

_"Don Alejandro," she said, "I don't think you know my brother Gaspar. He's running another branch of our company in San Luis Obispo. Gaspar, please meet Don Alejandro de la Vega, a good customer from the Pueblo de Los Angeles."_

_"That's an honour, Don Alejandro."_

_"The honour is mine, Señor," he replied._

_Was he older or younger than his sister? Alejandro couldn't tell. He clearly was in his twenties, but whether he was more or less than her twenty-five years-old wasn't easy to guess... Anyway, now that Alejandro knew he was Doña Araceli's brother, he could indeed spot some resemblances between the two siblings. This raven unruly hair... these deep brown eyes... this slightly too swarthy complexion, at least for the standards of high society... Were there some Indian in their ancestry? Or even more unlikely, back there in Spain... some Gypsy? Appalling thoughts for any proud Spaniard, but you're hardly responsible for your forefathers, right? Or foremothers, come to think of that..._

_Unless their mother had some distant Moorish ancestry, like many Andalusians... Yes, he thought, that was more likely._

_"May I introduce my wife Faustina?" Señor Ximénez said, gesturing to the charming young woman on his arm._

_"Doña Faustina," Alejandro told her as he bowed to kiss her hand, "the flowers of this patio fade in comparison with your grace."_

_"Oh, Don Alejandro, thank you very much," the woman acknowledged the compliment with a becoming blush, gracefully accepting it as a simple but elegant mark of courtesy._

_Doña Araceli hooked her arm with Alejandro's and falsely chided him with an amused smile:_

_"Don Alejandro, you want to be careful: my brother might get the wrong idea and take umbrage at your admiration for my sister-in-law! And I wouldn't like to have my brother and a friend of mine duel just after I introduced them to each other!"_

_"Well, Doña Araceli, I'm glad you just called me a friend and not a business acquaintance. Your friendship is an honour and a pleasure."_

_"Why couldn't we be both?" she asked playfully. "Make business and be friends, I mean..."_

_"Señora," he replied with a grin, "with you it seems that absolutely everything can go with some level of business talk..."_

_"Well," she said with a knowing smile, "friendship and business aren't mutually exclusive... as long as both play fair! You seem to have come to know me rather well over the years, Don Alejandro. I'm an open book, to you."_

_"I very much doubt it, Doña Araceli," he retorted mirroring her smile. "Or rather, what I have come to learn about you, other than the fact that you are the most charming hostess of all San Diego, is that as far as business is concerned you always keep a card up your sleeve in a negotiation..."_

_"Really?" she asked, rhetorically doubtful. "Well, never lose an occasion to make a good deal! That's my father's motto, and the second piece of advice he gave me as far as business is concerned."_

_"Oh? And may I ask what the first one was?"_

_"Never fool your customers," she answered straight back. "Be straight and honest in business, or they won't want anything to do with you in the future. A reputation of seriousness is the best asset a company can have..."_

_Alejandro could tell she had taken her father's advice by the book._

_"And I suppose your brother too applies these rules strictly in San Luis Obispo..." Alejandro ventured._

_"I certainly hope so," she replied. "If only for his own good! Otherwise Father might spank him! But talking about Gaspar, if he doesn't seem to take umbrage at your gallant compliment to Faustina, it might not be the same for me... I don't recall you telling me anything that delightful," she reproached him playfully. "But I can't resent you for admiring my sister-in-law: she's really a very pretty young woman!" she added with a smile. "But my flowers, on the other hand, might resent you for your comment. And here I thought they were the most pleasant sight in my house tonight..."_

_With a smile, she gave a slight tap on his arm with her closed fan._

_"Then you were wrong," Alejandro told her, "because none here can compare with the wonderful charm of their owner... Really, there is no need for you to envy your sister-in-law Señora: she might make your wisteria fade a bit, but you, Doña Araceli, command to the flowers of this patio and of this whole hacienda, and you are the queen of this kingdom of beauty; no other flower can compare with your charm and freshness, and no guest here can vie with the pleasure of your company..."_

_"Why, Don Alejandro!" she exclaimed playfully, wanting to take the compliment lightly but obviously pleased nonetheless. "You're quite the gallant caballero tonight!"_

_A bright smile lit her face, radiating around her._

_"I guess San Diego does that to me..." he replied pensively. "But, if neither your brother nor yourself did take umbrage at my words," he added, throwing a glance in her beau's direction on the opposite side of the patio, "perhaps Señor Villegas does... And perhaps he might misinterpret my words and find them a bit too forward for his liking..."_

_She followed his gaze. Cesar was taking a sip of his drink, looking her way._

_"Oh no, don't worry, Don Alejandro," she answered. "Don Cesar knows fairly well that I can stand up for myself if necessary." She smiled at her suitor who got up, seeing her look at him. "I tell you, Don Alejandro, there's nothing like a man who treats you as a real adult and not as some inept and hopeless lesser person always needing someone else..."_

_She had a broad smile on her face as she saw her sweetheart stand up and start to make his way to them._

_"Really, Don Alejandro, there's nothing like a man who's not feeling threatened by the fact that I don't need him..."_

_Villegas joined them as she ended her sentence. She beamed at him and smiled sweetly – mushily, Alejandro thought. He humphed inwardly at the sickeningly soppy look on her face. Honestly! And now what more...? Stars in her eyes, perhaps? Really! How could such a sensible woman suddenly turn into a puddle of goo? Ew... So disappointing from her! And if she really wanted a man in her life, she certainly could do better than this popinjay interested only in books, music and arts. Thank God, Alejandro thought, his Diego was nothing like this weakling!_

_Really, Doña Araceli might have a very good and wise manner of conducting her business, but she had a very strange way of leading her private life..._

_"Con su permiso...?" Villegas asked, presenting her his arm with on his face a wide smile mirroring hers._

_Baboso, Alejandro inwardly called the young man._

_She hooked her arm with her beau's, as Alejandro released her other arm, bowing over her hand. He then turned to Villegas._

_Cretino, he thought again._

_Yet instead of voicing his thoughts aloud, he courteously told him in a polite lip-service:_

_"She's all yours, Don Cesar."_

_"I very much doubt it, Don Alejandro," the young man answered._

_The older man looked at him, startled._

_"And as a matter of fact," Villegas clarified, "I doubt Doña Araceli will ever truly be anyone's..."_

_And on that note the young man fondly kissed her hand. Her already large smile grew even wider at his words._

_Pooh! Smooth-talker, Alejandro thought. Really, what was a woman like her doing with a man like him?!_

_Well, Alejandro de la Vega wasn't born yesterday, and technically he had a pretty clear and far too graphic idea of exactly **what** they were indeed doing together... Ahem._

_"Don Alejandro," Don Cesar told him, "I heard you had a look at Alvarez's horses this morning?"_

_"Yes I have," he answered, "and I have spotted a beautiful young mare I intent to buy. Initially I thought about buying it as a gift for my son on his return from Spain, but it won't happen before four more years; so in fact, I changed my mind and will simply and egoistically buy it for myself."_

_"Charity begins at home..." Don Cesar stated._

_As and when Don Alejandro described the animal with some flights of lyricism, Araceli deigned to stop drooling over her lover for a few minutes and suddenly joined the conversation:_

_"Oh, you don't mean that white filly who was sired by Toboso, Alvarez's prized stallion?"_

_"Yes," Alejandro answered, "That's that one."_

_"Then I'm afraid you can kiss her goodbye," she told him. "I have beaten you to it. Or in other words, I've pipped you at the post."_

_"You've bought her?"_

_"Yes, this afternoon," she said in a gentle smile. "You see, Don Alejandro, one of the keys to success in business is quick decision-making. Or rather, the subtle balance between time of reflexion and rapidity of decision. More haste means less speed..."_

_"I purchase it from you," Alejandro decided. "I'm sure we can agree on a fair price, Señora."_

_"Thank you, but no. I like this mare, as you said she's beautiful."_

_"Oh please, Doña Araceli," he retorted, "we all know you're usually more subtle than this, if I may say so." He smiled knowingly. "You're just trying to make the price rise... Would I dare say I've known you to be more straightforward?"_

_This time, he was openly grinning, sure as he was to have uncovered her ploy._

_"As you said so yourself Don Alejandro," she answered, "I am both more subtle and more straightforward in conducting business." She smiled at him to soften the graze. "The mare is truly not for sale. I've not bought her to make business on her; for once I've bought something for myself, just because such is my wish. In fact, I've paid it on my privy purse. I'm keeping her, sorry."_

_"What happened to 'never lose an occasion to make a good deal', may I ask?" Alejandro tried again._

_She laughed heartily._

_"It didn't fall on deaf ears, it seems! But sorry, I really want to ride this horse," she replied with an amused glint in her eyes. "But let's make a deal: in some time, you might send here the stallion of your choice for servicing her, and their first foal is for you. For free. That's my offer: do you take it or do you leave it?"_

_Alejandro considered it. He quickly calculated: the foal would just be ready to be broken and trained when Diego returns... It could make a nice present for him!_

_"Doña Araceli," he finally said, grinning, "it seems we are going to have a foal together!"_


	19. Ch 19 - A rough awakening

From her counter, Victoria threw a glance in Señora Valdès's direction at the secluded table she and her daughter still occupied. Propped up in the corner formed by the two walls she was leaning back against, with her head thrown back, she seemed to be dozing, with her sleeping daughter in her lap and her arms still embracing her.

Then she spotted the curtain separating her kitchen from the main room be pulled to the side, and Don Alejandro quietly stepped in the room. From the neutral look on his face she couldn't tell whether the talk with Diego had finally gone well or not. He obviously knew he would be watched and stared at as soon as he'd set foot past this curtain, so he most likely schooled his features before leaving the kitchen.

Not looking at anyone around, he made his way directly to his daughter and her mother. He probably noticed the manifest decrease in the tavern's background sound of conversations that occurred when he appeared, but he didn't give any indication of it.

Don Diego followed a few seconds behind him, and Victoria searched his face for an indication of how troubled he was. But his features were unreadable. He didn't give a look to anyone else either, not even to her, and joined the rest of his... er... family...?... in the corner of the room.

They now both had their backs to her, she couldn't see the look on their faces when they discovered both mother and child asleep, but thanks to the now rather low background noise she could catch what they said.

"They're exhausted," Don Alejandro commented, "we shouldn't have made them wait so long after this trying day..."

Don Diego nodded.

"I didn't realise we stayed that long in the kitchen," he said. "I hope we didn't bother Victoria."

But as much as his father liked the innkeeper, Victoria Escalante seemed to be far down the list of Don Alejandro's current top concerns, and considering the day he just had, she could understand that.

He leaned over his two 'girls', trying to gently take his daughter from her mother's arms without awaking the child. When he finally had Leonor in his arms he handed her over to his son, telling him in a murmur:

"Here, take her while I rouse Araceli from her slumber: she's quite a heavy sleeper."

A piece of information Diego would have gladly done without from his father, not because of the detail itself but because of its implications as to what the nature of the relationship between them had been.

At first Diego held the girl only at arm's length, as though she was some dangerous thing that might bite or explode any minute. Finally noticing the strange stares he was receiving – notably from Victoria – for his peculiar and awkward way to hold a sleeping child, he finally settled her against his chest, supporting her with one arm under her legs while the other one was stiffly encircling her upper body. He simply stood there, between two tables, straight as a ramrod, and looking at a loss as to what to do. His whole stance seemed to be very stiff. He obviously felt very awkward toward his newly found half-sister.

Well, in a way Victoria could understand him: she didn't know how she would feel if she suddenly discovered one of her parents had had a child she had never known about. And she knew even less how she'd react if this sibling suddenly turned up in her tavern!

After Don Alejandro shook her shoulder for the fourth time – gently at first, then more firmly – Señora Valdès finally started. She opened her eyes, and it clearly took her one or two seconds to realise and remember where she was and what just happened.

Don Alejandro was still leaning toward her and told her a few words, to which she nodded. Then he presented her his arm and helped her up.

While the two men still had their backs to the rest of the tavern, Señora Valdès was facing her and part of her customers. She took a look around, and barely suppressed a sigh at seeing all those pairs of eyes fixed on them. And although the two de la Vega men didn't turn around, Victoria was sure they could feel the looks burn a hole in their backs.

"Victoria!" Don Alejandro called her.

She made her way to them.

"How much do we owe you, please?" he asked, reaching inside his pocket.

But Señora Valdès had a move to stop him.

"Leave that to me, Alejandro," she said. "After all, that was mainly my snack..."

"Still, Araceli, I insist, I should be the one–"

"Alejandro, stop that!" she cut in with a weary sigh in her voice, "I really don't want to argue with you right now. That's not the time..." She rubbed her temples with the thumb and middle finger of her right hand, closing her eyes for an instant. "Alejandro, I'm exhausted, I had a very long and hard day, I'm dusty and dirty, I'm weary, I'm all this at the same time, I want to go back to the quiet of home, so I don't have the time to flatter your male ego and misplaced pride."

Diego didn't comment on her tirade, but as Doña Araceli paid her what she owed, he silently threw a meaningful look in Victoria's direction: that was not every day that someone shut his father up.

He rectified the child's position in his arms, nesting her better against him, appearing to be a bit more comfortable with her. Or less uncomfortable, at least...

They bid Victoria their goodbyes and prepared to leave, rather eager to be out of the public eye and to take refuge in the quiet and privacy of home. She saw them to the porch of her tavern and, as they were about to leave, she heard Don Diego tell his father in a low voice:

"She's still sound asleep. I'll keep her with me on the ride home."

"Oh Diego," Don Alejandro replied, "that's kind of you but..."

He hesitated.

"What?" his son asked.

"Well, I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings Diego, but... you're not exactly a very skilled horseman... and... and even the old mare threw you..."

"Father, I assure you I can manage–"

"Diego, let's not take any risk... You'll need both your hands to hold the reins, and in case–"

"Father...! Weren't you the one telling me I should try to make better acquaintance with Leonor?"

"But anyway right now she's asleep, Diego!" Don Alejandro pointed out.

"Precisely..." his son mumbled. "It's easier that way... for a start."

At least he was willing to try, Victoria thought. He should be given credit for that. Still, Don Alejandro's decision not to entrust his daughter to Don Diego's limited riding skills was probably very wise. Even though poor Don Diego looked a bit downhearted from it when he accepted to hand back the child to their father when they reach the hitching post.

But once they were outdoor, a ray of the low evening sunshine hit Leonor's face and she stirred in Diego's arms. And stirred again.

Realising that she was rousing and would be awake any second now, poor Don Diego looked sheerly panicked, as though a jaguar or a coyote was waking up in his arms. Opening her eyes to an unfamiliar face, the girl started, and for a split second Victoria feared that she was going to cry. But turning her head to the side she saw her mother and a look of recognition lit up in her eyes. She calmed down but wriggled in the stranger's arms to hold her own arms out to Señora Valdès.

"You're safe, mi Tesoro," the woman gently told her daughter, "everything's all right, we're going home now."

"We're going back to San Diego?" the child asked.

"No, Cariño, not yet," she answered. "We're going back to Papá's hacienda for now."

Leonor became agitated again and Diego had to tighten his grip around her a bit to prevent her from falling.

"No, no," the girl protested, "there are mean señores in Papá's house! Papá, come back with us in San Diego, you will be safe there!"

"Shh, shh, calm down, my darling," her mother said. "The mean men are gone. They're not there anymore. Don't you remember? They rode to the desert."

"That's true, mi gatita," Don Alejandro confirmed, "they're gone. It's safe there now, don't worry. It's safe for everyone. And we'll settle you in a different guestroom, alright?"

She seemed to hesitate. Diego prudently chose to put her down. A soon as her feet touched the ground, she rushed to her mother and threw her arms around her waist.

At the same time a patrol led by the alcalde arrived. Spotting the child with Araceli, de Soto stopped his horse at their level and said:

"I see you've been reunited with your daughter, Señora... I'm relieved this misadventure has a happy outcome."

He chose not to say anything about Don Alejandro, preserving what might still be a secret to the Los Angelinos. Little did he know about the very public family reunion that occurred in the middle of the plaza half an hour earlier. Victoria was surprised at how considerate the alcalde suddenly seemed to be. She would have thought de Soto would have been far too happy to spread the word in order to tarnish Don Alejandro's reputation. Perhaps the presence of the child had him mellow his manners...?

He made his mount head to the garrison and his soldiers followed. When Sergeant Mendoza passed in front of the de la Vegas, he told them, smiling:

"I already knew the little one was all right".

"What do you mean?" Don Diego asked him.

By way of answer, he pointed his thumb behind his shoulder with a wink. Diego, his father, Araceli and even Leonor looked this way: behind the sergeant, between two other soldiers, a man dressed in beige trousers and jacket was tied up to his own horse, lying on his stomach over the saddle, his hands and feet loosely bound together under the animal's belly with the horse's bridles. On the backside of his trousers was carved a Z that was enough to tell any Los Angelinos what happened to him.

And to anyone who heard of the child's abduction, it was obvious that this man was one of the kidnappers.

Recognising one of the 'mean señores', Leonor turned to her mother, tightened her clasp around her waist and hid her face in her middle, quivering like a leaf. Araceli instinctively wrapped her arms around her daughter.

As soon as Don Alejandro saw the man and understood who he was, he clenched his shaking hands into balls and took a step toward the prisoner to give him a piece of his mind, probably through some use of his fists.

Diego, who was standing right behind him, saw his move and reacted discreetly but quickly: with both hands he firmly clasped his father's arms tight against his sides and held him back, preventing him from walking any further to the tied-up bandit.

"Diego..." Don Alejandro growled, "let me–"

But his son tightened his grip even more, shaking his head in silent disagreement. Realising his father couldn't see it, he simply murmured:

"Father... please..."

But this plea fell on deaf ears. When Don Alejandro tried to free himself from his son's surprisingly strong grip, Diego told him in a low voice and through clenched teeth:

"Not in front of Leonor..."

It immediately had the intended effect as his father gave up on his vengeful furious reaction. Yet he was still very angry, and from behind his back Diego could see his father's shoulders shake slightly.

Ironic, he thought. All day long – and further back than that, for _years_! – he had searched any means to rein in his father's hot and flaring temper, and now the mere three syllables of his daughter's name were enough to stop him short... Really, what more did she have that he, Diego, didn't?

Suddenly the alcalde turned back and led his horse to the prisoner. He dismounted, took out a knife and cut his ties. Then he grabbed the man's head by the hair to raise it up.

"Señora, Don Alejandro, Don Diego," he called, "has any of you ever seen this man?"

With these words, he pulled down the man's scarf under his chin, uncovering his face for all to see it.

Araceli's eyes widened, she gaped and took in a sharp breath.

"Señora...?" de Soto repeated, "do you know this man?"

All eyes turned to her as she slowly and silently nodded, a look of sheer disbelief on her face.


	20. Ch 20 - Good company

_"Dinner was excellent, Doña Araceli," Alejandro told her, "...as always... Congratulations to your cook."_

_"I'll make sure to convey them to her, Don Alejandro."_

_"And the wines were perfect to accompany it," he added._

_He really wanted to steer the conversation on the subject of wine, but didn't want to seem too obvious. He knew that if he appeared too eager, he'd have the lower hand in the negotiations, and he really, really wanted to get his wine from her in the future. But if ever she knew how much he wanted to quit trading with the Vasquez brothers, he wouldn't obtain the good prices he expected from her. That's why he really had to look detached in bringing up the topic._

_"Perfect indeed, Araceli," Doña Faustina agreed._

_Her husband was talking with some others of his sister's guests on the other side of the sala about a topic that had already been discussed during dinner: some poor peon of the vicinity had been imprisoned the day before for not paying his taxes, and in the afternoon it was heard that he had been released thanks to someone paying his debt._

_Near the piano a third group of guests burst out laughing about some apparently amusing thing Villegas just said._

_Honestly! Alejandro thought, was the man really that funny, or were these people only trying to be in Doña Araceli's good graces through flattering her 'good friend' Don Cesar?_

_Then one of the guests approached the three of them:_

_"Don Alejandro, I see you're in really charming company," he said. "Doubly charming..." he added, bowing to each of the two ladies who acknowledged the polite compliment with a nod and a smile. "What a lucky man you are! But we might all get jealous if you keep the two most radiant stars of this night to yourself!"_

_"I assure you I wouldn't dare deprive the rest of the party here of these ladies' company."_

_Then Señores Ximénez and Villegas both joined them as Don Alejandro put his glass on the mantelpiece. As he stood beside his very lovely wife, Don Gaspar looked pensively at his sister and Don Cesar; precisely at this same moment the young man leaned toward his mistress's ear and, with a knowing air, he murmured six words Alejandro managed to catch, even though he didn't understand their hidden meaning:_

_"I know what you've done."_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Alejandro had finally managed to have his hostess to himself for a few minutes in a corner of the patio now lit by a few torches, and to start testing the waters – well, so to speak – about the kind of wine she could sell him, the quantities and the price._

_"Well, it will depend on the amount, Don Alejandro."_

_"And the amount will depend on your price, Doña Araceli..." he answered with a twinkle in his eyes._

_"We're going round in circles here, my dear friend..." she said with a small smile. "All right," she then decided, "I'll take the first step: two hundred reals for a barrel of fourteen cantarás."_

_"Two hundred! Oh, Doña Araceli, surely you're not serious," Alejandro said, tilting his head to the side with a small smile._

_"I am, Don Alejandro, as you surely well know," she answered mirroring his smile and with a pointed look in her twinkling eyes._

_They'd been playing that game each time they discussed prices over the past two years now, so they were beginning to know what to expect from the opposite part in these situations. And they were enjoying it quite a bit now, not unlike two musicians improvising on a rather well known melody, each of them answering the other's latest musical phrase with a variation of his own._

_"But that would make almost fifteen reals the cantará, Señora," he pointed out._

_"If barrels are too much for you Don Alejandro, I can make an offer of sixty reals for a keg."_

_"Now I know you're joking, Doña Araceli," he said, punctuating his remark by pointing his index finger up and giving her a broad smile._

_"You fairly well know I never joke as far as business is concerned, my dear friend," she replied, playfully mimicking his stance. "And I'm sure you certainly didn't receive a better proposition this afternoon. You met with the Vasquezes, didn't you? A little bird told me so..."_

_While pleasantly talking, they walked away from the patio without even realising it and ended up wandering in the garden._

_"Really?" he asked, theatrically raising one eyebrow but not overly surprised deep down. After all, he hadn't tried to keep his comings and goings secret since his arrival._

_"Really," she answered. "I keep a close interest, you know."_

_"In my comings and goings when I'm in San Diego?" he asked. "I'm flattered, Señora. But as you certainly already know, you won't find anything either secret or compromising about me..."_

_She smiled at this idea._

_"Oh, and why that? Because there is indeed nothing to find, or because all your skeletons are too well hidden behind the doors of seemingly insignificant closets?"_

_This time they both laughed heartily. What a preposterous idea!_

_"Really Doña Araceli," he chuckled, "I'm afraid I'm far more uninteresting and bland than you seem to imagine... Contrary to what you suggest, there's nothing much taleworthy about the life I'm leading... Just an old man and a quiet haciendado who's taking some business trips from time to time to prepare a good future for his son..."_

_"An old man...? Where?" she playfully asked, acting surprised, looking right and left. "Here in my garden? I haven't seen him."_

_Alejandro smiled._

_"You're too kind, Doña Araceli. But my son is now an adult, which makes me an elder, as much as I dislike this idea..." he said with a pout which, on the contrary, made him look very childlike. "...In other words, an 'ancient', for people of your generation..."_

_"I certainly don't like hearing you call yourself that, and I don't want you to have such ideas!" she said in a playfully reproachful tone. "You know, my parents say that age is all in the head!"_

_Alejandro laughed._

_"That's generally what people who deny their age say! No offense intended to your parents, though: I must admit I'm very often like them in that regard. But honesty makes me tell you that age is also unfortunately in the joints..."_

_"Precisely," Señora Ximénez de Valdès retorted._ _"Didn't you just take a very long two days horseride here? Seems to me you're still in a fine condition, then... A true young man!"_

_"I guess I can only yield to the logic of your reasoning, Señora," he said, bowing to her with an amused – but pleased – smile on his lips._

_"But getting back to what you said, you can rest assured: I'm not spying on you or on your comings and goings, Don Alejandro. I'm just interested in you," she explained, "as in all my customers and business partners," she added. "That's all."_

_"I'm honoured by your interest, Doña Araceli," he graciously replied. "And I am sorry to disappoint you, but I assure you there is no hidden skeleton in my closets! I'm just as plain and boring as an open book!"_

_"Why do you think books should be boring, Don Alejandro? And anyway, no one is an open book: nobody is truly deep down who they seem to be on the outside, in the onlookers' eyes..."_

_"Do you really think so?" he said. "So tell me, Doña Araceli, what are_ _**your** _ _hidden skeletons?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes._

_"Oh, as you may know, my skeletons are all out in the open," she answered in an amused smile, "they have been for years. For all eyes to see."_

_Indeed, Alejandro thought: the whole of the town knew that she and her late husband – may his soul rest in peace – had been separated for years before his death eighteen months earlier and even prior to her four-years-old settlement in San Diego. It must have been quite a shocker and a scandal at the time. But why did the spouses come to the drastic and very rare measure that was judicial separation? No one here seemed to know the details. Or perhaps Don Cesar did?_

_Come to think of him, she didn't either make a big secret of the fact that she had... well... a love life. That she sometimes had a relationship, a liaison with a male 'good friend'. Such as Señor Villegas or Lieutenant Alcalá before him; and perhaps some other before, even prior to her estranged husband's death._

_So yes, once all this was out in the open, what else could she still hide that would shock the public eye? The reason behind her and her husband's separation, perhaps?_

_"As a matter of fact," Alejandro dared asking, "you've never told me why you and Señor Valdès..."_

_He let his unfinished question hang in the air, realising only too late that he had gone too far._

_"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he saw her become immediately serious, a sad and awkward look on her face. "I'm terribly sorry," he murmured, "I don't know what got into me. I really shouldn't have asked this. Please forget I ever did... I'm sorry–"_

_"No," she cut him, looking down, "no, please don't be." She raised her head. Her eyes were clearly not seeing what was right in front of them, but were lost far away in the past. "Perhaps one day I'll tell you this very simple story..." she added in a quietly pensive voice, "who knows..."_

_"My apologies, Señora," Alejandro repeated. "That was terribly rude of me. I never should have brought up the subject."_

_"Apologies accepted, Don Alejandro. I'm aware the topic has been much talked about at the time, and again when I moved in San Diego. I'm used to it. I had simply forgotten it was still a subject of wonder even now... You see, to me all this seems to be so far ago, now..."_

_"Still, it was very inappropriate of me, I shouldn't have brought back such sad and painful memories for you. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sure whatever happened was none of your fault."_

_"Then you're wrong, Don Alejandro," she quietly but firmly said. "In fact it was entirely my fault. I'm the one to blame for this marriage ever happening in the first place, so its failure is logically my responsibility. I was just a foolish and selfish spoiled girl when I was young..."_

_She went silent. Alejandro didn't dare say anything. He chided himself: he had ruined the pleasant atmosphere of banter they had established a few minutes earlier. What an idiot! Why did he have to so rudely bring up that obviously very private and sensitive matter? How stupid he had been! What had gotten into him?_

_"Perhaps one day I'll tell you about it," she repeated with a poor little smile. "Just not tonight." She suddenly looked at him mischievously: "Tonight is for good wine, good talks... and good business of course!"_

_"And good company," Alejandro completed, elegantly gesturing to his hostess and bowing his head playfully._

_She had a real and true smile for him. Not just this polite and almost mechanical smile she had often used with him or her other guests tonight, but a smile that came from deep inside and radiated through her eyes even before curving her lips up._

_"Good company indeed, Don Alejandro," she echoed. "Now let's get back to business: two hundred for a barrel of Rioja is a good offer, and you know it."_


	21. Ch 21 - The sign of the X

_"Two hundred for a barrel of Rioja is a good offer, and you know it," Araceli told Alejandro to rekindle their business talk. "And as you could see it tonight, or rather taste it, it's a very good wine. In all modesty, I think it's one of the best Rioja you'll find in all Alta California... I have found an excellent producer in Spain, and I'm his only purchaser here in the New World."_

_"I don't doubt the quality of your goods, Señora, but I'll have a more reasonable offer from–"_

_"Oh really, Don Alejandro," she said with the amused tone Alejandro used to use on Diego when his son was still a child and had just said an obvious lie, "what kind of businesswoman would I be if I didn't know the prices practised by my competition?"_

_She said all this with a crooked smile and a sparkle in her eyes._

_That's the precise moment Villegas chose to seek her out and to check the garden._

_"Ah, here you are my dear," he told Señora Ximénez de Valdès. "Your brother was wondering where you had been."_

_Alejandro suppressed a sigh of frustrated annoyance at the interruption._

_"Oh," she said, "I hadn't noticed we had walked away from the rest of the party, sorry. We were talking business and got a bit carried away."_

_"Away indeed, even spatially speaking, as I see," Don Cesar noted with a teasing smile._

_"Then let's go back to the patio if you please, Don Alejandro. I owe myself to my guests."_

_"Of course, Señora," he agreed, inwardly cursing the younger man for interrupting his tête-à-tête with Doña Araceli._

_But before they made their way to the house, Señor Villegas gently held her back by putting his hand on her arm._

_"By the way," he told his mistress, "and before we're again in the middle of everyone..."_

_"Yes?" she asked._

_He shot her a bright smile. Alejandro wanted to wipe it from his face: couldn't the man see that he and the lady were having a serious business negotiation, here?_

_"Why don't you want the whole of San Diego to know...?" Villegas asked her._

_"I don't know what you mean..." she answered in a slightly too firm tone which made Alejandro think that, on the contrary, she knew exactly what he was talking about. The older man, for his part, was totally in the dark._

_The young man's smile grew wider._

_"Whatever..." he stated. "Don Alejandro, did you hear what Don Carlos said over dinner? According to him, the payment for Ortega's taxes just showed up on the alcalde's doorstep after siesta, along with an anonymous note explaining that the money was intended to cover Pablo's debt. Can you believe that, Araceli?"_

_"Well," she retorted, "whoever did this must be very stupid or have a great faith in people's honesty! Leaving money on a doorstep, in broad daylight, on display and for all to see it!"_

_"Oh," Don Cesar replied, still smiling and raising an eyebrow at her, "there is never much people outside during siesta! And indeed the money was still there when the alcalde opened his door! In fact no one saw whoever dropped off the money and the letter, as far as I know."_

_"Really?" she asked._

_"Really," he confirmed. "And, still according to Don Carlos, the letter wasn't signed; or rather, there was only a mere cross at the bottom of it."_

_"Ah?" she said, sounding barely interested._

_"Yes, a cross. And you know what...? I couldn't help but think that this cross as only signature could as well have been... a capital X..."_

_"An X?" she repeated in a neutral tone of voice._

_Don Cesar shot her a crooked smile, while the hidden meaning of his words began to make its way through Don Alejandro's mind._

_"That's a fine thing you did..." Villegas told her quietly and approvingly._

_Surprisingly, she pouted a bit._

_"Oww," she said, "just don't go shouting it from the rooftops!"_

_"Why that?" both Don Cesar and Don Alejandro asked._

_"People might begin to think that I have a heart..."_

_"But I know that you_ _**do** _ _have a heart, mi Corazón, and what's more, a good one!" Villegas protested._

_"Perhaps," she conceded, "but I'd prefer that this piece of information remains unadvertised, or else everyone will try to take advantage of it! You know... ask for delays in payment, for me to loan them money and so on; and I'm running an import-export company, for God's sake, not a darn bank! If they think I have a heart somewhere inside my chest and not just an account book, they'll start making puppy eyes at me during business talks..."_

_"Really, Señora," Alejandro told her, "there's nothing inglorious with having a good heart!"_

_"Pooh!" she dismissively commented. "Generally speaking, of course there's nothing wrong with that, but obviously none of you two know what it is to make business_ _**and** _ _be a woman. People expect me to be kind and sweet and sympathetic, they think I won't stand up for my interests, so I have to be twice as tough as anyone else for them to respect me."_

_"I assure you Señora, I certainly won't think less of you for being kind-hearted," Alejandro told her. "And I've learned the hard way never to underestimate you in any kind of negotiation!" he added with a chuckle. "In fact, have I ever tried to make puppy eyes at you?"_

_"Not that I can remember, Don Alejandro," she answered. "But now that the idea is in the air..." she couldn't resist teasing him, "perhaps I regret it?"_

_Then she became serious again and turned to Villegas to ask him:_

_"Anyway, what makes you think I did it out of sheer selflessness and kind-heartedness? As a matter of fact, it was all in my own interest to do so: Pablo Ortega is one of my tenants, you know that. And if he didn't have enough money to pay his taxes, in fact he didn't either have the money to pay me what he owes me. And as long as he would have stayed in jail, he certainly wouldn't have worked in his farm, which means that he wouldn't have earned anything in the meantime, which in turn means that he was never going to pay me his rent, you see?"_

_"So" Villegas said, "what you're trying to tell me is that you acted purely out of self-interest?"_

_"Precisely," she said, "that's it. Now Pablo can work again and in a few weeks he'll pay me the rent he owes me."_

_"So that's to remain your official version?" Don Alejandro asked her. "That you paid his debts and freed the poor man only out of personal financial interest?"_

_"No," Doña Araceli patiently reminded him with a twinkling eye, "the official version is that Pablo Ortega has been freed thanks to an anonymous benefactor."_

_"And talking about that, what about these taxes you paid for him?" Don Cesar prompted her. "Won't you get this money back too?"_

_"But_ _**I** _ _didn't pay anything, my dear! '_ _**X'** _ _paid these!"_

_"Won't you even tell the man that you're his Fairy Godmother?" Alejandro asked._

_She frowned a bit, wriggling her nose pensively in a comical manner which Don Alejandro found strangely endearing. Then she finally answered his question:_

_"Oh, I will. But_ _**only** _ _him, no one else. Just so that he knows it's not a gift but a loan. A zero-rate loan, but a loan. And that in the future I intend him to pay his rent_ _**and** _ _his taxes_ _**before** _ _he buys foolish things for his sweetheart!"_

_"You're not a romantic at heart, are you?" her beau rhetorically asked._

_"As you already very well know," she replied. "I'm a pragmatic, but this certainly doesn't mean I can't have feelings; I just refuse to let these make me do ridiculous things or act like a foolish teenager. Lord knows I did this enough when I was indeed a teenager!"_

_Again, Alejandro wondered what kind of young girl Doña Araceli had been ten years earlier: whatever it was, she certainly didn't seem to have a very high opinion of the girl she was then!_

_"Well, about Pablo's girlfriend..." Villegas started to suggest, "if you think he got into this situation because of his infatuation for her, then perhaps you should tell_ _**her** _ _too that you're the one who had to pay for his release!"_

_"Certainly not," she retorted heatedly. "She and her mother are so... so... self-righteous! They don't want anything to do with 'a woman like me', don't you remember? The fact that he works a land owned by my company is already hard to swallow for them..."_

_"Precisely, you might do him a service by... I don't know, prompting an unpleasant reaction from her which would finally open his eyes to the sort of person she is? I just don't understand what Ortega sees in her..." Don Cesar commented._

_"Well," Doña Araceli provided, "she's absolutely gorgeous..."_

_"And...?" Villegas asked as an answer, "is that really all there has to be to arouse interest as far as love is concerned?"_

_"For some people it's sometimes enough to cloud all the rest and make them make poor choices or meet poor decisions..." she replied with a sad look, her eyes staring again into space._

_Don Alejandro was witnessing this strange conversation and beginning to feel awkward at hearing them talk about people he didn't even know. Not to mention that again the subject seemed to have prompted some unpleasant memories in his hostess... Why that? Granted, she wasn't the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen, but still... No, in all objectivity she wasn't exactly beautiful, but there was something about her... a certain je-ne-sais-quoi... some inexplicable charm in her stance and gestures, in the imperfections of her face and the unevenness of her features..._

_"But in fact," Villegas went on, startling Alejandro from his reverie, "I heard that things were being less idyllic for them lately... Perhaps they have broken up?"_

_"I can only hope so..." Doña Araceli answered. "For him!" she clarified. "Anyway, back to business. But now that you have betrayed my little secret before Don Alejandro, now that he knows that I do have a heart, it will be easy for him to try to move me to pity and to obtain indecently low prices for the wine he intends to buy from me!"_

_"I very much doubt you'd allow yourself to be moved by any trick I could try, Señora," Alejandro said, "but still... I can make an offer of one hundred and fifty for a barrel of your Rioja."_

_"Well tried, Don Alejandro, but no. Yet I can make an effort for you: one hundred and eighty. As you can see, I'm growing soft with age."_

_"With age! Really! You!" Alejandro exclaimed playfully. "If_ _**you** _ _are aging, Señora, what should_ _**I** _ _say, then?"_

_"You should say yes to my offer, Don Alejandro," she answered tit for tat, "because I won't lower it."_

_He hesitated, or at least made a show of doing so._

_"All right," he finally agreed. "You can rest assured, Doña Araceli," he added with a smile, "you're not growing soft in business. At all."_

_She smiled back at him, an amused sparkle in her eyes._

_"Still," she told him playfully as she finally made her way back to her other guests, "I'm curious to know what your 'puppy eyes' look like... Perhaps you will try these out on me next time...?"_


	22. Ch 22 - Around the bed

"Señora, do you know this man?" de Soto asked Araceli while showing her the face of her daughter's kidnapper.

She blinked, as though to make sure what she was seeing was real, and again she nodded, unable to utter a word. The look on her face was one of shock and disbelief, with a hint of a certain sadness and disappointment.

"Yes," she finally managed to say in a hoarse voice.

All eyes looked expectantly at her.

"Señora...?" de Soto prompted her.

But she didn't seem to hear him. She released her daughter and instinctively pushed her in her father's direction. Leonor hugged him tight and hid her face in his middle, still scared by the bandit who abducted her.

Then Araceli walked to the man, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Don Alejandro had a reflex gesture as to stop her from going closer to the bandit; but seeing that de Soto was still firmly holding the man who thus couldn't harm her, Diego gently held him back.

Araceli stood in front of her daughter's kidnapper and stared at him; then in a choked and still incredulous voice, she simply asked him:

"How... how could you...?"

The man lowered his eyes to the ground.

"LOOK AT ME!" she burst out.

He hesitantly raised a very apprehensive look at her.

An air of immense sadness invaded the features of her face.

"Pablo, how could you?" she sighed, clearly at a loss.

De Soto decided to remind her of his presence and of his earlier question.

"Señora, who is this man?"

She tore her gaze away from the prisoner and looked at the alcalde.

"His name is Pablo Ortega. He's a farmer from San Diego. His farm is on a land owned by my family."

"So he is a tenant-farmer of your family?"

"Yes," she confirmed in a somewhat gloomy voice.

Then she turned to Ortega and barked at him:

"How dared you...? How could you take my daughter?"

"I wouldn't have hurt her, I swear!" he assured.

"Oh really? That's not what the note promised!"

Again, he cast his eyes down.

"LOOK AT ME!" she repeated. "Please tell me you're not the one who wrote it..."

But Ortega didn't answer; instead, he looked further down, contemplating the tip of his shoes.

"Oh my God..." Araceli murmured, appalled.

"It... it... it was just words, I swear!" he cried out. "I would have never... We would have never–"

"Oh Dios!" she cut him short. "And to think I'm the one who encouraged you to learn how to read and write!"

"I'm... I'm sorry, Señora," he mumbled.

"You're sorry? YOU'RE SORRY?" she bust out. "And would you dare go to my daughter here and face her, look her straight in the eye and tell her that you're sorry?"

He still didn't raise his head; quite the contrary in fact: he seemed very eager to retreat inside himself and not face anyone. And certainly not the child he had so scared, nor her incensed mother.

"You're sorry because you've been caught," Araceli went on, "that's all. I cannot believe it," she then said, sighing. "After everything I've done for you! Why did you– why did you do that to me?"

"It wasn't against you Señora, I swear!" Ortega said, finally raising his head and looking at her pleadingly.

"Then why?"

He shrugged.

"Well, _money_ of course!" he answered matter-of-factly. "What else is there?"

She was flabbergasted by that answer and simply looked at him, gaping.

"What do you think?" he told her. "What can someone like you, who's born into money just like Don Alejandro, understand to the kind of life we're living? You can buy whatever you want, whenever you want! You can treat yourself with whatever you like! And you dare lecture and pontificate about how to spend money to people who have only little of it?"

De Soto grabbed him by the back of his jacket and brought him down his mount.

"Now," the alcade said, let's go straight to the jail; and you'd better tell us you accomplices' names if you don't want to bear all the brunt for your disgusting actions on a helpless child!"

Araceli tightened her hands into fists and turned her back to him, heading to her daughter.

All along this confrontation, Alejandro had been dying to jump at the man's throat and make him regret to have even laid a finger on his little girl; but with his son keeping a comforting but firm hand on his shoulder and his daughter clutching to his waist, he had both his children to hold him in check and keep him from giving in to his usual impulsiveness.

Araceli bent to Leonor and took her from Don Alejandro, picking her up and holding her into her arms. She forced a strained smile on her face to reassure her child.

"Come on, mi Angel," she told Leonor, "you must be exhausted."

She kissed her forehead and then looked at her daughter's father:

"Please Alejandro, let's go back to your hacienda, now," she asked, with her eyes half closed out of weariness and dismay. "Please..." she repeated, looking more dejected than ever.

Momentarily giving up on his ideas of revenge, Don Alejandro granted Araceli her wish and they finally headed home. After all, he too was nervously exhausted after this trying day, even if he wouldn't have admitted it for all the gold of California.

And anyway, if there was gold in California, people would know it by now!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"She's so peaceful now..."

Araceli kept stroking lightly Leonor's hair, unable to tear herself from her daughter. On the other side of the bed, Alejandro was watching his sleeping child.

At first, the girl had wanted to spend the night in any one of her parents' bed, either with her mother or her father, and considering the circumstances they almost agreed to it. But they knew that the sooner she resumed a normal life, the better; and she had to face the coming night, even with the risk of nightmares. If they started to sleep beside her, they would only postpone her dealing with it, making it harder the later it would occur.

Yet it had been hard to refuse their daughter her wish, but they stood fast and firm even though they too longed to stay the night at her side. They agreed however to stay with her until she fell asleep.

Diego too had come to bid her good night, and he even stayed a bit when his father left them a few minutes to have a well-deserved bath. He had sat on a chair beside his sister's bed and dared to hesitantly pat her hand, not saying anything. She had stared at him a bit puzzled but didn't withdraw her arm from his gentle touch.

When a cleanly clad and shaved Alejandro had come back a quarter of an hour later, he had found his two children silently waiting for him with their fingers slightly entwined.

The moment he came in she had turned to him and her eyes had lit up. Diego had got up and let his place to his father, making a show of yawning exaggeratedly.

"I'm completely exhausted after this eventful day," he had said. "I'm going to bed before I fall asleep on my feet. Good night Father, Señora." He had then looked at the bed. "Good night Leonor."

This had happened a good twenty minutes earlier. Now Leonor had finally fallen asleep and there was no sign that she was having a troubled sleep. Alejandro too began stroking her shortened hair and from time to time, his fingers fortuitously brushed Araceli's lightly over their child's head.

"You're awfully silent," he finally remarked, whispering.

"You didn't say anything either since your son left the room," she answered in a murmur.

He nodded slowly and silently. She stopped caressing her daughter's hair and leaned back in her chair.

"I was... thinking..." she said in a low voice. "About what Ortega said..."

She paused and looked at him, then at Leonor.

"Perhaps she is spoiled too much..." she murmured pensively. "Without us even realising it."

Alejandro was stunned.

"Spoiled?" he repeated her words. "Leonor?"

"Yes. After all, Pablo was right in a way, about me. And you. We both had the luck to be born from parents who had money, we haven't known the kind of childhood most people have. Perhaps it made us... unable to understand some things. Even with the best will in the world, maybe we can't fathom certain things, or feelings, or situations... Don't you think?"

He looked at her, surprised and thinking hard.

"Still," he finally said, not directly answering her question, "I don't think you're spoiling her. I don't think _we_ 're spoiling her. You're giving her good principles, I know that. You don't indulge her every whim or fancy, you don't overlook the stupid things she can do, we don't overindulge her with tons of costly presents... No, I don't think we're spoiling her..."

"Of course, but there's not only that. Perhaps I should dress her with simpler clothes, instead of visibly expensive fancy dresses. Perhaps I should avoid what emphasises the difference between her and my employees' children."

"We always want the best for our children... that's only natural and very human."

"Yes, and we also want to prevent them from experiencing the same hardships as we did. But in doing so, perhaps we bring other kinds of hardships for them..."

"What do you mean?" Alejandro asked her.

"Well... if my parents hadn't bowed to most of my whims when I was a child, if they had told me 'no' more often when I was her age, I probably wouldn't have married Pascual ten years later... May his soul rest in peace."

"And perhaps," Alejandro added, "if I hadn't made things so... so... easy... for Diego in his youth, if he had had to try harder for what he got, if he had had to fight for it... if he hadn't been so carefree... well, perhaps he'd be... different, now. Less... less indolent. Not so spineless. He'd probably be stronger if he had known some more difficulties in his youth..."

"Personally," Araceli contradicted him, "I'd think that losing his mother when he was in fact still a child and having to finish growing up without her was enough of a hardship, don't you think? The death of one of the two persons he loved most in the world certainly toughened him and was probably hard enough on him, I'd say."

"Of course, you're right... Yes, of course..." Alejandro mumbled, humbled by her intercession on behalf of his own son. "Gracias for reminding me my duties as a father, even to the child who's not yours."

"I don't know your son, Alejandro," she replied, "and I don't know what to think of him. But at first sight I can already say that he's not too fond of me; neither is he of Leonor. He didn't do anything to help us find her, even after the note; he just went to bed because he had a headache..." she sighed. "But on the other hand, the taverness spoke highly of him this afternoon. So I think I'll reserve judgement about Don Diego."

He sent her a poor sheepish smile. Then he remembered her previous sentence:

"You mean Victoria...? Did she really...?"

He sighed, before he went on:

"Most of the time I think he's just a mere idle young man without a care in the world. And once in a while, he does something that makes me think that all is not lost with him... that there is still hope... But when he acts it's only from behind his desk, sitting on a chair... through this newspaper or the letters he sends to the governor. He never really acts. And never in a million year would he do anything that might physically put him on the line, even remotely so. I think he's afraid something might mar his pretty face. My son is just a... a..."

"Alejandro," she interrupted him, "I think you'd better not finish this sentence. I know you, you'd regret it later. And in fact there is nothing wrong in fighting with the only weapons you're sure to master; quite the contrary, it's rather wise."

At these last words, Alejandro pulled a face. She smiled:

"I was sure you'd react like that," she said, stifling a giggle.

Then she became serious again: "Anyway, he certainly doesn't like me much."

She paused.

"I'm sure you're mistak–" Alejandro started to say.

"I can understand," she cut him. "I can only imagine I'm quite a shock to him. I can understand I'm probably not his favourite person... I just hope he won't be a pest about that."

"Well," Alejandro replied, "if that's any comfort to you, he definitely doesn't think too high of me either right now..." He sighed. "I've disappointed him."

She stared into space.

"It's hard enough to be disappointed by someone you trust," she finally said after a long and awkward silence. "Then I can only imagine what it must be when it's by someone you trust _and_ love..." she added in a whisper.

In a rare flash of perspicacity, Alejandro noticed her sad and subdued air, and he asked her:

"It's about this tenant-farmer of yours, isn't it?"

She looked distressed at the fresh memory of it, but didn't say a word.

"You must feel so betrayed..." he went on. "I'm terribly sorry for you. And now I even resent him for hurting your feelings on top of what he did to Leonor and of the fright it gave me..."

She very slowly nodded.

He got up and walked around his daughter's bed to Araceli's chair.

"Your bath must be ready by now," he told her. "Go wash away your worries of the day, you'll feel better after that. And try to sleep afterwards, you had a very trying day. We all did."

She nodded again and got up from her seat. She leaned over her daughter and landed a very light kiss on Leonor's forehead, soon imitated in that by Don Alejandro. They both felt some trouble leaving their child after such a day, but they finally tore themselves away from her bed and exited the room, closing quietly the door behind them.

"Err... well, good night Araceli," Alejandro simply told her.

Then he took a step closer and awkwardly kissed her cheek. After that he turned on his heels, left the guestroom's corridor and retreated to his own bedroom.

What a strange day it had been!


	23. Ch 23 - Bedtime delays

After he left Leonor's bedroom and contrary to what he had told his father, Diego didn't go to bed of course. Instead, he headed to the library where he found Felipe who was eager to hear the real details about the girl's rescue.

"Come, let's go down," Diego told him while walking to the fireplace, "we'd better get out of earshot. And anyway, I must change clothes and saddle Tornado: Zorro rides tonight."

At the young man's evident 'why?', Diego didn't answer directly.

"Let's go to the cave," he simply repeated.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

With his index fingers, Felipe drew circles under his eyes and then pointed at Diego. The latter deliberately ignored his friend's remark – 'but you hardly slept a wink last night, and you rode the better part of today!' – to go to the coat rack and change clothes with the young man's help.

"I need to hear what Victoria really thinks of me, now that she knows that the girl is NOT my daughter, and that I didn't even know this woman."

Felipe nodded, meaning that he understood his wish, but then he showed Zorro's mask in his hand and shook his head, pointing at Diego.

"No Felipe, if I want her to say what she _really_ thinks of me, I cannot go as myself."

The young man then mimed something that Diego immediately understood and denied as soon as he saw it:

"No, I'm not being a chicken!"

Felipe rolled his eyes and raised them to heaven.

"But NO, I assure you!" Diego insisted.

 _Sure_ , the young man seemed to ironically answer.

Frustrated, Diego just shrugged and resumed getting dressed with his back to his friend, who went to saddle Tornado.

Once Zorro was ready he turned to them; Felipe then mimed someone laying his head on a pillow and closed his eyes, before pointing upstairs.

"I don't know, Felipe. The girl, yes, probably by now; she seemed to be rather drowsy when I left them. But they were still both at her bedside. I'm not sure Father will find sleep easily after today's excitement, and think Señora Valdès's maid was preparing a bath for her, so I'm not sure any of them is sleeping right now: today was a lot to take in after all..."

Felipe then pointed at him questioningly.

"I'm all right," Diego answered him a bit gruffly.

Felipe looked at him in a manner that spoke volumes about the lack of credibility of his answer.

"I'm just looking forward to seeing them go back to San Diego," Zorro said. "The sooner the better..."

Felipe agreed. He signed that he didn't like children's shouts and that they were often nosy: _what if she snooped around and found the secret passageway?_

"No, the mechanism is too high for her."

Felipe then showed a chair and pretended to climb on it and to search through the books on a shelf.

"No, I don't think so. They won't leave her alone long enough, even inside the hacienda. Especially after today... Father checked twice that the shutters of her bedroom's window were firmly closed, do you believe that?" he sighed. "He who doesn't ever close those of his own bedroom at night..."

When Zorro mounted Tornado and bid his young friend his good bye, telling him not to wait for his return home, Felipe signed that he was looking forward to the girl's departure.

Zorro smiled at him and urged Tornado out of the cave.

But once outside he stopped to think a bit about that. A thought occurred to him and a feeling of very slight remorse made him go back inside.

"Felipe," he called once in the cave again, sighing deeply, "I don't want you to feel compelled to dislike her out of loyalty to me, you know..."

He looked at his young confident a bit sheepishly; then he made Tornado turn again and left for good, not adding anything.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Sitting in shirtsleeves at his desk in his bedroom and with his waistcoat hanging open, Don Alejandro was thoughtfully and absentmindedly running a hand in his hair while carefully choosing his words for the letter he was currently writing.

After he had bidden Araceli goodnight, he had gone straight to his room with the intention to go to bed, but once he had closed the door he realised he was still too nervously upset by the events of the day to have sleep immediately claim him. Thus he decided to delay a little a bit.

And since now the whole of Los Angeles knew about his very personal secret, he'd better inform his friends who didn't lived there too, before the news came to them through someone else...

And not only his friends... There would also be his family: hopefully they would be forgiving and understanding... like his nephew Rafael for instance... Would they welcome Leonor in the family? Now, as for what remained of his in-laws... Alejandro didn't look forward to writing _these_ letters, and even less to receiving their answers. His late wife's brothers, sisters and nephews' reactions would certainly match Diego's...

Ouch... really _not_ looking forward to it...

But, Alejandro reflected, their reactions was probably the price to pay for having kept it secret and hidden for so long! And after all, he had no one but himself to blame for this sure-to-come and well-deserved admonishment or snub from them. He should have told them long ago; Araceli had advised him to do so. She, for her part, had told her own family and been open about it from the start. Well of course she had! She would have had some trouble hiding it after the first months; and even afterwards, explaining why she was housing and raising a little girl under her roof would have been tricky. Especially as the more Leonor was growing up, the more she was looking like her mother, in Alejandro's opinion.

A knock on his door tore him away from his thoughts. He put his quill down, used his candle to light up his oil lamp and got up. Did Diego finally want to have another talk _now_? Did Leonor have a nightmare?

"What is it?" he called.

When no answer came from the other side of the door, he thought that perhaps Felipe had forgotten to tell him something; a message from Diego, maybe? Or perhaps the young man wanted to ask him something. Anyway and all things considered, he was rather glad for the interruption. These letters were not really pleasant to write.

Once at the door he put the lamp down on the marble surface of a dressing table. He reached for the doorknob, turned it and pulled the door open. To his utmost surprise, he found himself facing a slightly troubled Araceli clad in a white cotton long-sleeved nightshirt embroidered with frilly eyelet lace. She was wrapped in a paisley shawl and her long black hair was loosely braided in a plait which was running down the front of her shoulder to lower than her right breast.

Looking further down, Alejandro noticed that she was barefoot.

But once the first surprise faded, what struck him most was the look on her face: a mix of weariness and distress, combined with a hint of sadness and of disappointment. She had evidently been rather rattled and shaken by the events of the day; not to mention that Diego's welcome and reaction hadn't been the warmest ever.

But what definitely got and kept Alejandro's attention was the look in her eyes. The hurt, the sadness and the tiredness were there, of course, but only far away in the background; what lit up her eyes, what _burned_ in them was some sort of feverish lively fire. But she also seemed a bit lost, almost distraught.

"Araceli..." he finally said, daring to break the silence, "are you all right?"

She opened her mouth but didn't say anything, as though searching for words. She only nodded to reassure him. He asked again:

"Do you need anything?"

Again, she nodded, slowly, not tearing her eyes away from his face. She finally spoke:

"Alejandro, do you remember this morning, when you asked your son to take care of me and I said that I didn't need comforting?"

It was his turn to silently nod.

"Well," she went on, briefly looking down before looking up again, " _now_ I need comfort," she admitted. "But not the kind of comfort I'm morally and seemly allowed to seek from my daughter's brother..." she added, looking him straight in the eyes.

He recognised this look as soon as he saw it: a _thirst_ , a _need_ , a _hunger_. Fire. Greed.

Longing, craving.

Desire. Heat. Arousal.

 _Lust_.

Oh, Dios!

Her breathing was short and fast. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips swollen and reddened, her eyes dark and shining...

Oh Dios, Dios...

She slowly but surely raised a hand to his neck; before she reached his throat she suspended her daring move, hesitating a bit, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, but she softly resumed it and oh-so gently but resolutely laid her palm flat against the upper part of his sternum, just under his neck. She took a step forward, crossing the threshold of his bedroom and getting so close to him that their chests were touching; by way of request for invitation, she simply asked him in a low and breathy voice:

"Please..."

Please... what? Please let me in, please hold me, or please... else?

He managed to slowly raise his own hand to hers and grasped it to gently tear it away from his chest. Oh, the strength this simple move demanded from him!

"Araceli..." he began, looking her in the eyes, "you're not... you mustn't..." he stammered. Oh, how raspy and breathy his own voice was! "You're not thinking straight right now," he managed to say, rather proud of this small prowess. "Today has been horribly trying on you, you're edgy and overwrought. You'd better go back to bed."


	24. Ch 24 - Victoria plays advocate

Zorro climbed the back wall of the tavern and knocked at the glass panel to have Victoria open the window of her bedroom for him to get inside.

"What's happening?" she asked, helping him in. "Have you been seen by soldiers?"

"No, everything is quiet outside, don't worry."

"Have you come to retrieve your papers?"

"My papers?" he asked, at a loss.

"Or rather, the de la Vegas'..." she clarified.

"Oh, yes!" he remembered. "Err, no, I didn't come for that. In fact," he added, "I just wanted to see you..."

She smiled.

"Good," she said, "I wanted to see you too."

Excellent, Zorro thought, she seemed to be in a good mood, less troubled than the night before.

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips. And then again, far less lightly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Excellent mood indeed Zorro thought, kissing her back.

She seemed relieved – and even delighted – by his response. When she finally pulled back she looked at him in the eyes.

"I was a bit worried, you know," she told him. "About you." Earlier this afternoon you didn't say a word, not even a mere 'buenos dias' when you brought this child back. I was wondering... if everything was alright. I even feared that you might have been wounded."

"I'm not, I assure you! Safe and sound, as you can see..."

And as to prove his word he took a step back and spread his arms wide, for her to see that he was indeed unscathed.

"In one piece," he went on to reassure her. "Uninjured, as you can note."

She smiled mischievously.

"Well, as much as I truly appreciate the display that's currently before my eyes," she replied, "for me to indeed assess how truly unscathed you are, I'd have to have a good look at you without all those clothes of yours on."

She playfully arched an eyebrow and it's only Zorro's training at hiding his surprise and emotions that prevented him from starting and gaping at her words. Yet he couldn't suppress the blush that came to his forehead and cheeks, thankfully hidden by the mask and the dark of the night.

He chose to prudently change the subject:

"I'm sorry I didn't pay you the attention and homage you deserve earlier today" he apologised. "I meant no disrespect Señorita, and I certainly regret having worried you. I'm decidedly not worthy of your attention, my dear. Please accept my apologies for my earlier discourtesy..."

"Oh, don't mention it. After all, it was quite a strange moment, wasn't it?" she replied. "I can understand that just like everyone in the pueblo before today, you would have never suspected that Don Alejandro... well... you know..."

He nodded slowly and gravely, keeping silent.

"As for me," she said, "I certainly wouldn't have ever thought that he... err..."

"Tell me about it!" Zorro answered a bit gruffly.

She gave him a sidelong look, thinking.

"Well," she finally said, "of course that's much unexpected, especially of him... I would have never thought that of him... but he seems to truly care for this child, after all..."

Surprisingly, Zorro let out a sort of grumpy exclamation, halfway between a humph and a grunt.

"What?" Victoria asked him.

"Yes, yes," the masked man said in a rather lifeless voice, "he seems to really dote on her... Totally besotted..."

He sounded a bit grim, Victoria thought without knowing the cause of this subdued mood.

"Well..." Victoria commented, "whatever. This is no one else's business after all, isn't it? Don Alejandro is a grown man, and he hasn't to answer to anyone. Not anymore. He has been widowed for a long time, and he took responsibility for the girl, so this shouldn't be anyone's concern... In fact," she added somewhat wistfully with a benign smile, "they were rather sweet together, weren't they? And she is so clearly a de la Vega that it was rather funny and endearing to see them together. _All_ together, since Don Diego joined them afterwards..."

Zorro felt rather miffed at seeing how nonchalantly she was taking all this and how forgiving she was toward his father, as opposed to how hard she had been on himself – or rather on _Diego_ – just the night before when she suspected him of exactly the same demeanour. Or _misdemeanour_.

"I must admit I'm surprised by your words and by your sudden indulgence, Señorita," he told her crossing his arms. "You didn't find her likeness with the de la Vegas that much endearing last night when you thought she took it after Don Diego; and you certainly weren't that lenient or forgiving when you believed _he_ was the one who fathered this child. Why such a difference in treatment? Did Don Diego kill your pet or anything like that? What's so wrong with him which is alright in his father?"

Victoria gaped at him. What had got into him? There was absolutely no matter with Diego de la Vega, but what was suddenly the matter with _Zorro_?

"Nothing is wrong with Don Diego," she retorted slightly heatedly. "He didn't do anything."

"I know, I know," he replied, a bit upset. "I know, 'he never does anything', et cætera, et cætera. Well, you know what, I'm sure he does what he can!"

"Of course he does, I didn't mean that! What's suddenly got into you? Don Diego is currently facing a certainly uneasy situation, and I'm sure he'll finally handle it rather well! At least, he didn't take it out on the girl, or on her mother either, it speaks loads about how decent and controlled he is."

"Well," Zorro retorted, "isn't it precisely what everyone holds against him? His self-control, his calmness and collectedness? Never giving in to impulse or anger?"

"You say this as though it were bad things! I'll have you know these are great qualities, contrary to what you seem to be inferring!"

"That's good to know," he told her with a tinge of coolness in his voice, "since you usually appear to find this behaviour of his rather dull, apathetic and overall irking!"

"Don Diego isn't dull," Victoria contradicted. "And I don't think so of him. What on earth is wrong with you today? I thought you liked and respected him! I know I'm sometimes frustrated at his constant inaction, but–"

" _Inaction_ , that's what you call it now? I think I remember hearing you tax him with _do-nothingness_..."

"It may have escap–" She suddenly paused. "Wait a minute! Were you here in my tavern that day?

_Oops..._ his resentment and annoyance were making him careless. And in general, he was more careless in his words and attitudes when he was hidden behind the mask. As though the outfit, or even only the tiny piece of black material that was this mask made him lessen his caution, made him less careful; as though it turned him into someone else. Someone who won over the girl whose heart he hadn't been able to conquer by himself.

Hmm... now was not the time to dwell on this. He had to rectify his slip-up.

"I just heard about it, but according to your reaction I guess the person I take it from was indeed a trustworthy witness..."

Way to turn the tables on her, he thought. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back.

And it worked: Victoria looked a bit sheepish.

"Erm... yes, well... I might have gotten carried away that day..." she admitted. "I certainly didn't mean to hurt or insult him. I spoke without thinking, he knows that... He knows how I am, and anyway the state of my relationship with the de la Vegas is none of anyone's business," she stated, crossing her arms with a slight frown. Then, from slightly annoyed her frown became suspicious:

"But why are you suddenly so keen on talking about them?" she asked Zorro. "First Don Alejandro, now Don Diego... What's your quarrel with them?"

_What?_ How on earth did this strange idea sprout in her mind?

"I assure you I have no quarrel with them," he told her.

"Really?" she said sceptically. "Yet you seemed to be rather annoyed at Don Alejandro a few minutes ago, and you wouldn't even speak to him earlier this afternoon!"

Zorro gaped at her. _True,_ he reflected, at least she was right about that last part: in fact he hadn't known what to tell his father when he brought Leonor back to him. Hadn't been sure he _wanted_ to tell him anything at that moment. Certainly wasn't _ready_ to tell him anything about the situation. Even though he hadn't been _Diego_ then, but _Zorro_.

He slightly shook his head to dispel this confusing thought: he was _always_ Diego, deep inside; and even when he was Zorro – no! when he _dressed_ as Zorro – he still was Diego. Period. When did he start thinking otherwise? This constant halving of himself was apparently starting to take its toll on him.

"I'm not..." he started to say. "I just thought... it was a personal moment for him, I thought I didn't have to interfere, that's all..."

Victoria didn't look convinced.

"And how did you know that he had a daughter no one ever knew about, not even his own son? How did you know the girl had been abducted? And how did you know she was his?"

Oh no, not that! Not these questions! It was making her far too close to find out the truth!

"I have my sources..." he simply answered.

"And when you heard that Don Alejandro had an illegitimate hidden child," she said, "you couldn't help but snub him..."

"What!? No, absolutely not!"

She looked at him, disappointed.

"I would have never thought you were the kind of person who would judge a man on a past lapse," she told him reproachfully. "A lapse which consequences he has partially taken responsibility for: it's not like he didn't want anything to do with the girl!"

"Only in San Diego!" he retorted. "Here in Los Angeles no one ever heard of her existence before today, not even his own family!"

"Yes, well, that's their own family business, isn't it?" she pointed out. "It's their own matter, and also possibly a concern for old family friends like myself, but what business is it of yours, after all?"

"I'm not snubbing him, I swear!" Zorro assured her. "I just think he's getting off lightly if he gets away with it with pats on his back and congratulations on his expanded family, that's all," he added with the hint of a scowl.

Victoria eyed him intently for one or two seconds, not saying anything, looking deep in thought. Then she told him:

"It's about your father, isn't it?"

A bell of alarm rang in Zorro's mind. _Whoa, what?!_

"What?!" he exclaimed aloud before he could help it.

"This... resentment... you express at Don Alejandro. In fact it's all about your own father, right?"

"I don't know what you mean, mi querid–"

"You're born out of wedlock, aren't you?" she asked, trying a guess. "And you resent your own father for–"

"WHAT?!" he cut her.

"Did he at least recognise you? He didn't acknowledge paternity, is that it...? Do you... do you at least know who he is?"

_But where and how on earth did she come up with all this?!_

"Mi querida, I assure you–"

"That wouldn't change anything for me, you know... You'd still be the same... the man I love... That's not your fault, you did nothing wrong, I wouldn't think less of you if that was the case..."

He was about to deny when he fortunately understood what she was doing. He sent her a lopsided grin, tilting his head to the side:

"Fishing for details and information, aren't you mi querida? Oh, mi corazón, you cannot teach an old fox new tricks..."

She looked a bit disappointed, but for once she was a good looser and made the best of this bad deal. She came closer, flung her arms around his neck and seductively told him:

"Well, you cannot blame me for trying..."

Then with her hands intertwined behind his skull she made him lower his head while she stood on tiptoe and raised her lips to his to win a forgiveness he was all too willing to grant her anyway.


	25. Ch 25 - The girls take the offensive

Victoria was kissing Zorro thoroughly, focused on the sensations it was giving her and on providing these to him in return, when it occurred to her that it was probably the right time to set in motion the resolution she had made earlier after her strange talk with Don Alejandro's... _girlfriend_? _Novia...?_

Whatever. She really didn't want to think about Don Alejandro right now. She had set herself a target for tonight, and this target was just a few feet away from her: her bed. With the man who was currently in her arms.

She had taken the time of mature deliberation in the evening, has weighed things as composedly as an Escalante could – for whatever that meant – and she had decided that if this Señora Valdès could hold her head high, then she, Victoria Escalante, was courageous enough to do the same. And seeing how fond that woman was of her little girl and how adoringly she looked at her, she certainly didn't regret this turn her life had taken, and for nothing in the world would she go back in time and have it any other way...

Victoria was tired of constantly denying herself what almost all the other women had: a man in their bed, and a family. Children.

All the family she had had for a dozen years now came down to two nearly 'estranged' brothers who left to live their lives long ago and whom she barely ever saw, or just once every other year or so; even though the three of them kept in touch and regularly exchanged letters, mail wasn't the same as a presence.

And a presence she currently had in her arms, in flesh and blood. This made all the difference.

Or did it? Was he really, truly _present_ with her? Right now and physically, yes he was. But even whenever he was there, a part of him was always on the alert, always devising an escape that could come at any moment, always searching and spotting a way out. Not to go away from her, of course she knew that, but away from danger, from soldiers. But still, even when he was there with her, he wasn't fully, totally and undividedly with her.

 _Undividedly_... she inwardly laughed at herself. A laugh without any joy. Of course, how could he be undivided when he was hiding from her a very large part of who he was? Like his name, to begin with. His identity. And his face.

How could he be _undivided_ when he had two identities? He once told her there were two men in him, and that the main one, the real one feared she didn't love him. The one she didn't know. She had retorted that it was rubbish – even if she didn't exactly phrase it like that, this had been the main idea. She said that both parts were making the same man, and that she loved the heart beating in his chest, the man's heart which was making him act as Zorro. But she could feel she hadn't convinced him. He still talked as though he were two men, and as though only Zorro courted her. At least that was the impression she had, recently.

Could it mean that he thought that only the Zorro part in him loved her? And that deep inside, the man in him wasn't sure he wanted to make his life with her? And perhaps the constant postponing in fulfilling his promise to her was in fact an unacknowledged relief, to him?

Well, she resolved, no backing off for him tonight, and no more waiting for her. Time to take action, Victoria Escalante! No more delay for her, and no respite for him, even though she knew he would leave afterwards: she wasn't naive to the point of believing that they would have a sweet, cuddly and lazy morning after in each other's arms, slowly and gently waking up at the first light of dawn...

She seductively ran her hands along his spine, down to the small of his back, slowly, oh-so slowly, and then back up to his shoulder blades, her palms flat against the meanders of his frame. All the while, she wasn't leaving his mouth in peace: she'd been gently caressing the roof of his palate with the tip of her tongue when her hands roamed downwards, and then on the way up she'd been gently and slowly nipping at his lower lip.

Oh yes, he was beginning to drift in, she felt him relax, she felt the muscles of his back become less and less tense, his alertness was starting to falter, he was melting: she was gaining ground over his constant grip on himself. He even moaned!

Now he was using his arms and hands on her back to press her flat against him... The _whole_ of her against the _whole_ of him... And he moaned again! She would have gladly patted herself on the back for this rare achievement, but she felt that whatever had troubled him earlier in the afternoon had apparently helped eating away at his usual resolve and self-control, so she kept modest – well, so to speak... And anyway, he wasn't in her bed yet!

Suddenly, at the former idea, a thought sprung to her mind: was she taking advantage? ...of a _weakened_ man?

With horror, she drew back and gasped, her eyes wide. How could she do that to him?

It seemed to make him snap out of the very pleasant sensations he had unknowingly plunged into. He looked at her still a bit dazedly, but definitely aware of their surroundings and of the situation.

"Mi querida," he breathed, taking a small step back, "I'm... I'm sorry, I– I shouldn't have–"

What?! He was taking the blame on himself for that?! _Argh,_ Victoria thought, that man was so frustrating! How dared he take her desire from her and upon himself?! Wasn't she allowed even that? Hadn't she the right to womanly desires in his mind? _El cabr–_ oops, no, _that_ was a bit too strong a word for him, she reflected.

Well, she realised, he was regaining his wits quite fast! So perhaps no, she hadn't really been taking advantage, right? Not over such a level-headed man, no, this could hardly be the case, she reflected. So there was no wrongdoing in taking the only very small advantage she could have over him, was it? It was not like he was any ordinary man, he was el Zorro! And with such a formidable adversary, you had to make the most of any tiny breach you could find in his defence.

But on the other hand, she remembered him telling her that deep down, he was just a very ordinary man. Was it fair to seduce him to her bed? And to hope for a child without telling him so? But she already knew that, stubborn as he was, he would say no if she asked for it.

Was it morally decent to take advantage of him? Of the ordinary man in him?

But Victoria was tired of waiting, and she precisely wanted him to show her how ordinary a man he was. Right now she didn't want a hero, and she was tired of being the hero's virtuous fair lady. Right now she wanted to be an ordinary woman, in bed with her very ordinary man.

And anyway, decency was far overrated.

She noted that the only good thing in the step back he took away from her was that it got him closer to the bed. _Make the most of a bad deal, Victoria, and turn it into an advantage!_ She took a step forth, slowly, idly, so as not to scare him away and not be too obvious.

"Don't talk rubbish," she gently murmured in her most innocent voice, "you did nothing wrong. Please hold me..."

And she didn't wait for him to comply, she buried herself against his chest, but kept her arms to herself, refraining from hugging him: she needed him not to feel imprisoned, needed him to feel free of his moves – for now. Needed him to feel in charge and free to back off if ever he wanted to.

Only until she made him nearly as crazy with want as she was.

His arms gently hugged her as she nestle her head in the crook of his neck. She sighed with contentment and felt him relax again. She waited a good twenty seconds before raising her eyes to look at him and asking him with the purest smile she could manage:

"Please, kiss me..."

He gazed adoringly at her through the two holes in the mask and slowly lowered his lips to hers for a chaste kiss.

 _No haste,_ Victoria repeated herself again and again, _no haste!_

Then after some time and a few pecks on his lips, she dared deepen the kiss slightly. And then less slightly. He was still responding. Good. Was still relaxed. Very good. Crossed his arms behind her back to put his hands on her shoulders. Very very good.

She broke the kiss and began pampering the side of his jaw and then of his neck with featherlike kisses.

Still no negative reaction from him. Quite the contrary: he even arched his head back to grant her better access and offer her more skin surface to treat, to celebrate. And to feast on.

He was now breathing a bit heavily and she could feel it against his throat. Great, he was on the right track again! She was sure he had his eyes closed, but she didn't dare take a look, since it would mean stopping the slow kissing of his throat that he seemed to be enjoying so much and tear her lips way from the skin of his neck. She didn't want to risk breaking the mood she had finally managed to restore.

She didn't dare encircle him with her arms either. Not yet. But since her hands were currently idle and unoccupied – and tingling with the need to do something and preferably something that would consist in touching him – she raised her left arm to slowly run the pads of her fingers over his breastbone. The tips of it glided over the silky material of his black shirt on the way up, and then even higher up, it came in direct contact with his skin. He breathed even deeper and she added some pressure of her tongue on his neck when on the way down, her fingers met again the barrier of his shirt. But instead of gliding over it like she did at first, she slid them lower between the folds of black fabric to keep contact with his skin. Then she resumed her slow stroking from the bottom up, and down again, and up again, wreaking havoc in Zorro's usually clear mind.

 _Oh my God ohmyGod myGodmyGodmyGod_ was his last remotely coherent thought.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

 _¡Oh Dios mio!_ Alejandro thought again, seeing the look in Araceli's eyes.

"You're confused," he told her, taking a small step back so that their chests weren't touching anymore. "You're on edge. You really should go to bed," he said again.

"Oh but I have every intention of going to bed, Alejandro," she replied slowly and meaningfully, staring at him intently with her burning gaze.

_¡Oh Dios, Dios!_

He gulped; an involuntary reaction which was a mistake since just then, Araceli looked at his Adam's apple, fascinated by its move. Seeing her gaze, he felt something roll and turn and tickle in the pit of his stomach.

_Oh, no... Get a grip on yourself, man!_

He closed his eyes a split second to collect himself.

Yes, that was better. He opened his eyes again.

"Araceli," he told her, "now is not the time–"

"I know, I know, Alejandro," she replied, taking another step to him to snuggle against him, "but I honestly don't care about the time..." she added in a weary voice, laying her head on his shoulder.

It really was frayed nerves talking, he reckoned. She needed to calm down in order to see things straight. And to realise that a good and gentle – and friendly! – hug was all she needed.

He wrapped his arms around her in order to have her relax against him and release some of the tension of the day. She was slightly shaking, but then the trembling stopped and he heard her sigh contentedly. Yes, he thought, a good hug and then, off to bed with her! Erm... well... _her_ bed. _Without_ him!

He absent-mindedly rubbed his hands over her back to soothe her and she relaxed even more. Good, he thought.

Not so good, he realised when he felt her snake one of her arms behind his head and run her hand through his hair. Thank God, her other hand was still trapped between them. Except that since it was not far from his chest, she could certainly feel the now quickening pace of his traitorous heart.

He moved a bit to the side to un-trap her hand and thus prevent her from realising how he was unwittingly reacting against his better judgement.

She was clearly shaken from the trying day they had and it would be wrong for him to take advantage of her in her troubled state. And anyway, he decided, he didn't want to take advantage. He didn't want her. Period.

After all, he wasn't the one who had knocked at the other's door! He hadn't asked for anything. He _still_ didn't ask for anything. Except for her to go back to bed.

And anyway, he was too old now for a woman like her, a woman who was already too much of a woman for just any man, let alone a man his age... She probably would be in for a disappointment.

And if she was to be disappointed and frustrated, he'd rather have it the way which would allow him to keep his head high, and not at the expense of his own male pride...

But she didn't seem aware of his inner fight and doubts.

"You're a nervous wreck, my dear," he gently told her, like a parent patiently explaining something to his child. "You need to sleep it off. You shall feel better in the morning."

Yes, he thought, there were other ways to release the tension than the one she presently had in mind.

"I don't want to sleep, Alejandro. I _can't_ sleep. I've tried to, but sleep evades me."

And just like earlier, she laid her freed hand flat over his breastbone.

"Please, Alejandro..." she simply repeated, looking at him intently.

He swallowed hard. Could she just stop using his forename every other sentence? Could she at least stop gazing at him with those big dark eyes of hers?

"You're not thinking straight, Araceli," he told her once more, unable to find anything more convincing.

"...'don't care about 'straight', right now," she murmured."...'don't even care about thinking..."

She nestled her head in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin just at the junction of his earlobe and the side of his throat.

He screwed his eyes shut, frowning, remembering with all his might that he didn't want her. Absolutely not. And the butterfly-like kisses she was dropping and delivering all along his jaw didn't change anything to this. At all.

"...'need you, Alejandro," she breathed in a pleading voice.

_¡Madre de Dios!_

But no, he absolutely didn't feel the hot wind of her heavy breathing on the dampened skin she had just kissed. Nor did the gentle nuzzling she was doing on his throat arouse anything in him. And the heat he was feeling on his forehead and cheeks was certainly due to the hot weather of the season.

"...'need it," she repeated in a whispering heavy breath. "Please..." she added in a near moan.

_¡Oh DiosmioDiosmioDiosmio! ¡Ayúdame!_

And if he hadn't grabbed her wrists to take her dangerous hands away from him, it was only out of chivalry, of course. Right?

But he wasn't sure he regretted this mistake, since now her right hand was roaming over his back, and it felt good...

 _No! not good,_ he reminded himself, it was not good at all. Quite the contrary. _Get a grip, for God's sake!_

Yet this hand dared not tug at his shirt to slip under it. _¡Gracias a Dios!_ he thanked looking high above, recognising here a small answer to his earlier prayer.

But her left hand was gently stroking along his sternum up to his neck and then from his throat down to his chest, and she had even undone the first button of his shirt to have better access to more of his skin.

_¡DiosDiosDiosDios! Give me strength!_

All his life, Alejandro de la Vega had prided himself on being a strong man. But when Araceli ran the knuckles of her bent fingers along his breastbone oh-so lightly in featherlike strokes, when she then caressed his chest with the pads of her fingers on the way up and lightly grazed his skin with her nails on the way down, Alejandro knew that he was in fact a very, very, very weak man.


	26. Ch 26 - Beds of roses are also beds of thorns

_Hmmm… Soooo sweeeet… sooo gooooood…_

Whoa, WHAT?!

 _What was that?_ Diego's mind suddenly wondered when he felt something worm its way below his waist, between his belt and his skin.

He started and bolted upright, and in doing so his chest bumped into something that turned out to be Victoria's jaw.

"Ow!" she let out, sitting up.

Diego snapped out of the daze he had been in and took in his surroundings: Victoria's bedroom, night... Realisation dawned on his mind, as well as the circumstances: it was not Diego here but Zorro, he had come to see Victoria, they had talked, then quarrelled a bit, then made up, then kissed... with a rather substantial part of making out and groping. Mainly from her part, he finally reckoned.

But his mind seemed to have totally obliterated how he ended up lying on his back on Victoria's bedcover, with her all over him, straddling him, her hand flat against the skin of his chest.

Wait wait wait, when did his black shirt come unbuttoned?

Alarmed, he quickly assessed the rest of his outfit: thank God it was still where it belonged, and with all the buttons and straps done. _Phew_.

Then he took a look at Victoria's state of dress: she too was still fully clothed, even though her skirts had been bunched up to her thighs – undoubtly in the heat of the moment – and her blouse was in total disarray, revealing a shoulder and a good part of cleavage. But what struck Zorro was that his own gloved hand was shamelessly cupping one of her breasts through the white fabric.

He immediately removed his hand as though he had burnt himself. _Santa Madre de Dios!_

 _Her_ hand, for its part, was still trapped under his belt and had clearly been in the process of unfastening its clasp when he had bolted up. That's even precisely what made him snap out of this sweet folly with a jolt.

But she hardly left him time to recover; she had been surprised and slightly worried by his sudden move:

"Zorro?! What's wrong?"

What's wrong?! She was asking what was wrong?! They were shamelessly making out lying on her bed in the middle of the night and in the process of disrobing each other, and she was asking what was wrong?!

In front of his lack of answer she asked again:

"What's happening? Did..." she glanced down at her hand, "did I hurt you?"

With two trembling fingers he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from his nether regions.

"No mi querida, no."

Then he took her other hand and tore it away from his naked chest.

"I apologise for this madness, mi querida," he told her, "I shouldn't have taken advantage..."

He gently grabbed her hips and lifted her from him, so that he could get away from under her and leave her bed. He took a step back and turned his back to her in order to fix his state of dress. Where was his cape?

Victoria, as for her, was puzzled:

"Advantage? How on earth could you believe you took advantage?"

She knew deep down that if one of them took advantage of the other, it was her. And she must have been very good at it if he didn't even notice her foxy manoeuvre! She had managed to trap him between her mattress and her own body, and he still believed he had been the one in charge! _Men, really!_

She got up and walked to him or rather to his back, since he was still facing the wall, then she snaked her arms around his waist to link her hands on his stomach, kissing his neck.

"Victoria..." he began, growling a bit.

He paused in buttoning up his shirt to gently grab her hands and unclasp her hold on him. She freed herself and gave a playful tap on his fingers before raising her hands and undoing again his shirt from behind him. He didn't let her carry on with that and turned to face her:

"Victoria, please, stop that."

"Shhh," she replied, seductively snuggling against his chest. "Everything's all right," she said in a murmur. "Come back to bed," she added, trailing her hands down his stomach to his belt, and then... _lower_.

He reacted by reflex and instinctively took a step back.

"Whoa, whoa, private parts here; I love you with all my heart but don't go there uninvited, mi preciosa!"

A bit miffed at his reaction, she gave a pointed look in the general direction of said parts.

"Forgive me if I mistook _this_ for an invitation, my love!"

He looked down. _Oh no!_

How embarrassing! He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, then out, then in again, to try to bring back under control this traitorous body of his. He knew he had certainly blushed scarlet under the mask.

She, on the other hand, didn't seem embarrassed at all by the very awkward situation or by his current predicament. Yet she was rather flushed herself, he noted. But according to the shine in her suddenly darkened eyes and to the swell of her now crimson lips, it was not out of embarrassment!

_Oh Dios!_

He suddenly felt like... a _prey_.

"My dear," he finally said, trying to sound detached and humorous despite the state he was in, "you still have much to learn about men if you think that our will alone has any control over this phenomenon..."

"It is certainly true that I still have much to know about you men..." she agreed. "So that's a good thing that I'm more than willing to learn..."

She cuddled against him, but in order not to scare him away she carefully avoided his 'very personal' parts.

"Mi querida..." he sighed, "Mi amor, we shouldn't... we mustn't..."

She stood on tiptoe and gently kissed his cheek. Then she said:

"You told me two minutes ago that you love me with all your heart..."

"And I mean it, Victoria."

"And I believe you," she replied. "But did it ever occur to you that I could also want you to love me with other parts of yourself than your heart...?"

He gasped. She had never been that bold with him before

"Of course..." he lied, "of course... But we mustn't. We shouldn't. Not like that."

"What do you mean, 'not like that'? And how else?" she looked at him. "There's only so many ways to do it, after all!"

 _Much to learn indeed..._ Anyway, that was not the point right now.

"I meant... the fight is not over," he explained. "I'm still an outlaw. I'm still promised to the gallows. I'm still wanted."

"Yes you are wanted. By me. Here and now!" she retorted. "And my bed is far more welcoming than the gallows, isn't it?" she added in a mellowed voice.

She kissed him and after a short hesitation, he responded.

 _Good..._ she thought, slowly dragging him to the bed.

"Come..." she breathed in his ear. "Come to my bed, and love me..."

 _No!_ his mind suddenly objected. He gently grabbed her elbows and pushed her away from him, taking a step back.

"Come on..." she insisted, "we've waited long enough. We are entitled to each other... we have the right to know love as man and woman..."

"We can't..." he protested weakly, in a pleading voice.

"Of course we can... You won't even have to take off the mask if you don't want to... I promise I won't try to remove it."

But apparently it was the wrong thing to say, because he tensed even more and took several steps back.

"I can't! I can't share a bed with you if you don't know who I am, if you don't know my name! Not if I still conceal my face from you behind this mask!"

"Then just take it off!" she said matter-of-factly with a shrug and a small smile.

"Mi querida, you know fairly well that the time for that has not come yet! I know I have promised to let you know who I am when the fight is over, but it's not yet... So we can't yet..."

She raised her hand to stop him.

"Right now I'm not asking for marriage! I'm not asking for your hand tonight! I'm not even asking for your identity! I just want what other women have without even having to beg for it. Lord knows I've waited long enough for that! It wouldn't change anything to your fight, or to your safety; or to mine, for that matter!"

"B-b-but I can't– I won't! You don't even know who I am!"

Victoria had a very exasperated sigh.

"We've had this conversation a hundred times! I love you for what you _do_ , for what you fight for, for your ideals, so I'll love the man who does all this even if I don't know his face or his name! I won't have that argument with you once more tonight. Tonight I want you. Simply that. Is that so hard to understand?"

"I want that too, Victoria, but not like that! What I want is... is... I want you to make love to the man I am, knowing fully who you are making love with, and accepting it, and even _wanting_ it! Wanting me– me as him... as myself, I mean... Oh this is all so confusing!"

"Then just take this damn mask off!" she shouted.

"Shhh!" he said, trying to get her to quiet her voice to prevent her from waking half the garrison. "You know I can't do that now."

She eyed him scrutinisingly.

"You're just hiding," she told him bitterly. "Not behind this mask, but behind all these words and fallacious arguments. I'll tell you that: you have trouble accepting that I'm a woman, that I'm just any woman, with the needs of a woman. But you know what? I'm tired of being your chivalrous ideal of the fair lady eternally waiting for her hero. You just want a chaste and eternally pure ladylove. You're just afraid to realise that I'm not purer than just anyone else, that I have the same needs and wishes for the pleasures of the flesh as any other. And that I have every right to it!"

After this outburst, Zorro didn't know what to say. But she wasn't done with him yet:

"You keep reproaching me for not seeing the ordinary man behind this mask and under this costume, but you're absolutely incapable of accepting that I'm an ordinary woman. Stop seeing me as above any other, stop worshipping me if that's what prevents you from worshipping my body!"

He gaped at her. She was totally missing the point, wasn't she?

"I assure you mi querida, I'm fully aware of how much a real woman you are..."

"Really?" she asked. "Good, then," she added.

And with that, in one swift move she grabbed the bottom hem of her blouse and quickly pulled it over her head before tossing it on the floor.

He only had the time to gape when he realised that she wasn't wearing anything under it, and before his brain had the time to fully take in what his eyes were seeing, he immediately turned to face the wall.

Victoria felt insulted by his reaction. Wouldn't he even look at her?

She walked to him and murmured in his ear through the black silk of the mask:

"Or perhaps I was totally wrong...? Perhaps you _do_ see me as a woman...? And perhaps you just fear I'm too much of a woman for you...?"

"Victoria..." he growled again, "don't play that game!"

"Or what? Or you might give in? Hardly a threat, my love, since it's exactly what I want from you..."

She kissed his neck from behind and he tensed. She insisted and against his better judgment he tilted his head to the other side to give her better access.

"So..." she asked seductively, "do you surrender, Zorro?"

He breathed in, straightening his head:

"Never..." he answered, stepping away from her and closer to the window. "Zorro never surrenders, mi preciosa."

"Never say never, mi querido. I'll just try harder."

Surprisingly, he gave an unexpected and amused small laugh.

"Then you ought to be careful, mi amor, because I might defend my virtue with weapons in arms..."

And matching his words with action, in the same move he quickly drew his sword, turned around and with the tip of his blade he caught a corner of the curtain, lifting it high enough so that it hid her chest from his view.

He flashed at her the most charming and maddening smile ever, looking very pleased with himself.

 _Argh..._ she thought, the man was really the most confusing and infuriating person she had ever met! And, she admitted, a real master at turning the table on someone!

Still holding the curtain between them as a veil of decency, he took a step to her, leaned down to her mouth and kissed her soundly to show her his appreciation. Then he pulled back less than one inch from her lips to murmur to her:

"I assure you that I'm looking forward to the day you and the man behind this mask will be joined in your bed. And that day, I'll show you how _not_ chastely I've been thinking of you all these years," he added before dropping a light kiss on her lips. "But just not tonight."

He kissed her again, still holding his sword between them. Then when he felt her ready to take control he pulled back, saluted and turned to the window, releasing the curtain. Before sheathing his blade he used it to retrieve his cape from the floor with a flick of his wrist and wrapped it over his shoulder.

She had barely recovered from his burning kiss when he climbed on the windowsill. She then remembered his last words.

"Promises, always promises!" she snapped at his retreating back.

She sighed heavily. What a fiasco! A spectacular flop. She wasn't any nearer to have him in her bed, or to become a mother for that matter; and to top it all, the make-out session with him had made her horny as hell, to say things crudely.

She was burning and tingling everywhere, and he had just left her standing there, hot and aroused, and very much frustrated.

Very much alone, too.

Yes, his visit had left her all hot and bothered, in every sense of the words. Really, he was the most frustrating and infuriating man in the world! She grabbed the first thing that came to her hand and threw it with rage across the room. It happened to be her vase, the one in which she usually put the roses he occasionally brought her.

Fine, she thought, she was tired of his perpetual chivalry and never-ending courtship, anyway!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Zorro was galloping through the dark night as though the devil himself were after him. Usually, he was fleeing from the lancers, but this time he was fleeing from Victoria. And he was beginning to think that she was more dangerous than a whole company of soldiers. Perhaps she was more dangerous for him than the devil himself!

Tonight he had almost lost it. Tonight he had almost ended up in her bed.

Well, technically, he _did_ end up in her bed... Fortunately, he regained his wits in time.

Or _unfortunately_ , he mused... Right now, instead of riding for dear life through the desert and toward his cold and empty bed, he could be lying with Victoria, warming his heart to her body, plunging with her in the delights of–

_STOP!_

_Stop that,_ he ordered his wandering and wanton mind.

His earlier... bodily predicament... was finally over – fortunately, considering the horse riding he had to do – so he'd rather have it not to return! He really should think of something else.

But honestly! What had suddenly gotten into Victoria? What had suddenly made her so... forward?

He realised he had had a narrow escape tonight, and had she been a bit more cautious and less hasty, he might have never roused from the madness that had taken them when they were on that bed until all was said and done. Well, mainly _done_ , he was quite sure they hadn't been making much talking at that precise moment.

What possessed her, to suddenly want to shift up a gear in their relationship? Well, deep down he knew the answer to that question of course.

Nothing. _Nothing_ is precisely what happened, and she clearly was frustrated at the status quo in their relationship: she wasn't seeing any end to their current situation and it was making her impatient and desperate, she had been crystal clear about that. Not to mention that the... 'lack of action' was apparently frustrating her to no end. And here he thought only men felt that!

She might have much to learn about men, but he really shouldn't brag about that because he apparently had still much to learn about women himself!

Or perhaps many misconceptions to 'unlearn', he reflected.

He sighed, slowing Tornado to a quiet walk as they got closer to the de la Vega hacienda. Home, finally! He'd just have to silently ride around it and then to reach the secret entrance of the cave, and he could finally go to bed.

But just as he was passing by, he heard... groans? Whimpers? Muffled cries? Someone was in distress around here. He looked right and left, but in the dark of the night, he couldn't see anything. He tried to focus on the sound to assess where it was coming from, so that he could come to that person's help. Here, he heard it again. A woman's voice.

And... Oh... Oooh!

Oww...

Moans...

The kind of moans whose nature he finally identified as coming from a woman who was definitely NOT in distress! Quite the contrary, even.

Or if she was, then well... clearly somebody was already 'taking care' of her kind of distress.

And considering that he had located the source of these sounds as coming from the broken window of his father's bedroom, he had a very clear and disturbing notion of exactly _who_ that someone was.

_Eww! No, couldn't be!_

And with all these elements, it wasn't difficult to guess who the woman was either!

Under his mask, Zorro's face scrunched up into a disgusted grimace. For no love or money in the world he would have taken a look through the broken glass of the window to confirm his guess. The sound was enough to traumatise him for the rest of his life, thank you very much, and it was already bringing far too vivid images to his mind.

_Eww!_

He would have been perfectly happy to live the rest of his life without these pictures floating before his mind's eye.

He squeezed his eyes shut to try to dispel those visions and then, in order not to hear those disturbing sounds anymore, he urged Tornado into a gallop to reach the cave as soon as possible, and to hell with discretion and caution!

Oh, no, he really, really, really didn't need _that_ tonight.

But the only good thing in all this was that now, he clearly didn't have to worry about the state of his groin. No chance of anything uncomfortable and embarrassing happening down there for the rest of the night! Absolutely none!

His own father! That was the icing on the cake of this nightmarish evening.

Victoria, his father, Doña Araceli... Oww, what on earth was in the air tonight?


	27. Ch 27 - Morning after

Alejandro woke up at dawn, as usual. What was unusual, though, was that he still felt a little bit tired, and didn't feel up to getting out of bed just yet. Yes he felt tired, but in a good way. Not in a weary, burden-of-his-years and aching-of-his-joints way, but rather in a blissful and beatific way. And when he turned his head to the side and finally managed to open his eyes, he knew why.

At the sight of another form lying in bed beside him he remembered the previous night. And smiled. And frowned. And smiled again. And frowned again. They shouldn't have done this, deep down something in him knew that. But it had also been pleasant to... revisit... their former liaison, to re-enact their past. A rather stupid smile remained plastered on his face. Right now he felt content. And not just a little proud of his nightly achievements.

He turned on his side – ouch! so much for joints not aching! – to take a better look at her. It had been a long time since he last woke up to that face. She was still sleeping – on her back, as always – and her very long mane of wild black hair was haphazardly spread around her and over the pillows, flooding his bed with dark strands and colonising it unbeknownst to her. He remembered having untied her ribbon and freed them from the braid in the heat of the moment at some point during their... activities: he so much liked running his fingers through their cascading length, particularly when she had her head arched back! And when, falling from her head down her spine to the small of her back, her hair followed her undulating moves like an extension of herself, it was the most erotic sight he had ever watched. Muy caliente. Especially when at the end of each of her wavy movements, the tip of it gently caressed and tickled the smooth skin of her hips, or his own hands on these...

 _Ow_ , he chastised himself, he really shouldn't think about this right now. It was finally a good thing that his age was now making him totally unable to repeat last night's performance right then, or he wouldn't be able to get out of bed without embarrassing himself before some time!

He resumed watching her. She was still asleep, her features relaxed and her body totally limp. A soft smile was floating on her lips. He remembered how deliciously sweet and burning these lips had felt against his own, or against his skin. And how they looked when they were swollen with lust or when she half-opened them, with her eyes closed and her head thrown back.

He made his eyes wander lower. Her neck, which he liked so much to kiss – which _she_ liked so much to feel kissed! Her shoulders, slightly too square for a woman, but such a solid anchor to grasp and cling to! He remembered he particularly liked to take her by her shoulders in any occasion: to look at her in the eyes, to talk to her seriously, to drop a kiss in the crook of her neck or on her lips, or just to stroke them caressingly...

And further down, below them began the abundance of curves that was her voluptuous body, a succession of mounds and valleys. A body he had learned to know well all these years ago. A body he had gotten reacquainted with last night. It suddenly had been as though these past six or seven years hadn't happened, and they both naturally found again the gestures that the other liked so much, in the right places.

The linen bedsheet draped slantwise across her chest like a Greek toga left one of her breasts uncovered, as well as half her upper body. A round, ample, plenteous breast which didn't totally fit in one hand. He had to use both of his to cup one of her breasts, and he had always loved this sensation of fullness.

Lower, his gaze plunged on her ribcage and – oh, yes! How could he have forgotten the beauty spot she had on the underline of her breast? It matched the one she had above, near her cleavage, and on which he had feasted again last night...

Further, her belly now had a slight swell that wasn't there seven years earlier: was it Leonor's mark on her mother? Or simply the passing of time on her body? He decided he loved that newfound curve: he had bestowed many caresses on it a few hours earlier, as well as he had revered with kisses the belly which had carried his daughter. _Their_ daughter.

In the middle of this very slight mound, the hollow depression of her navel captivated his attention, but the white fabric of the bedsheet unfortunately hid almost half of it.

He sighed regretfully. Further down, the only thing the linen sheet left for the eye to feast on was a round hip, which protruding bone never ceased to attract him, his gaze, his hands, his mouth... and right beside it, he could see the beginning of the hollow dip of her hip, where the skin was so soft that it had probably been designed to be caressed and kissed, which he had always reverently and keenly done like she loved so much; and for a man's thumb to nestle in it, while he was otherwise occupied with her, and she with him...

Beyond that, the white fabric didn't leave any patch of skin to be seen, but he knew what was under it: two round and firm sweet thighs – rounder and fleshier than before, if he saw it right the night before – which skin he had always absolutely loved to caress, to stroke, to run the tip of his fingers or his knuckles along their length or in their inner side... and even to fondle.

Then, her knees, which pit was so sensitive to tickling, but also to her lovers' teasing or loving ministrations. Further were two very elegant and incredibly fascinating calves that could make him crazy with want, ending with thin delicate ankles before her feet.

Her whole body was a symphony of curves and smoothness, as shapely and soft as in his memories.

No, not exactly as much as, he thought: in fact she seemed to have gained a few more curves over the past seven years, and it was only for the best in Alejandro's opinion. She still was the most desirable woman in California. Even more than before, he thought. And she had come to _him_ , to _his_ bedroom the night before. Had _sought_ him. And had even more or less _begged_ him to take her to his bed. How came that he, Alejandro de la Vega, had become the luckiest man in the world?

Oh, well, what was the use of wondering and questioning oneself on such a bright day and when life was beautiful? Instead, he resumed watching her face and gazing at her.

Her breathing was deep and even, lifting her chest with each intake and then making it go down when she exhaled. It was like a dance, and she was unknowingly setting her own pace to it and to the bedsheet she was currently sharing with him. And to him, even that simple thing had something beguiling in it. Even unintentionally, this woman was a fountain of sensuality in Alejandro's eyes. Of voluptuousness.

And of youth too, he reflected after some time. He remembered he had felt almost like a young man again in the first weeks or months of their affair. ' _Almost'_ being the important word here, though.

The good thing with heavy sleepers was that you could move in the bed without fearing to rouse them. He settled himself more comfortably to better watch her. He revelled in this sight and in the bliss he was feeling as the previous night's side effect, but also at waking up beside Araceli. It was just like before...

But the sun apparently had other plans: a ray of the early morning light, still low on the horizon, had entered the room through the broken window which curtains hadn't been closed – they hadn't taken the time to do so, not even thought about it the night before, in the heat of the moment – and the shaft of sunlight was now crawling and creeping up her delightful body to reach her face. When it touched her closed eyelids, she crinkled her nose, frowned a bit and screwed up her eyes.

She moaned and groaned lightly, turned her head to his side and frowned again; then she opened her eyes and saw Alejandro watching her with a smile on his face.

"Good morning," he told her gently.

She blinked.

"Oh," she said, a bit confused, "it's morning already?"

Alejandro smiled wider, amused.

"I'm sorry," she went on, "I think I fell asleep. I didn't mean to bother you."

She then stretched contentedly.

He started to lean in with the intent of dropping a kiss on her forehead or her cheek but she didn't see it and turned to her side to sit on the edge of the mattress.

He hadn't the time to tell her he was not bothered at all by her presence before she jumped out of bed and took the two or three steps to her discarded nightshirt. Still stark naked she picked it up from the floor, then she went almost to the door and picked up the shawl she had dropped there the night before.

She came back to the side of the bed and put her night attire on the mattress, after what she slipped her arms inside her nightshirt's long sleeves and then pulled it on. Tying the satin ribbon of its high neck she turned her face to him and told him with a nice and genuine smile:

"Thank you for last night."

Then she grabbed her shawl, reached the door, opened it and got out of his bedroom.

He laid his head back on the pillow, confused. And then he sighed; apparently, she hadn't intended to spend the night in his bed, she had just fallen asleep in it in the afterglow, out of exhaustion at the events of the day and at the physical fatigue.

This 'thank you for last night' meant that she hadn't meant what just happened between them as a rekindling of their former burning physical and emotional passion, even though the embers of it were clearly still there deep down in both of them and last night had just fanned these.

Alejandro sighed, wonderingly, because this 'thank you for last night' meant 'I needed this'.

Because it meant 'I don't love you'.

Well, he swept this thought away: of course she didn't! It had never been about that between them. She had never loved him and he had never loved her, of course! Not the way he had loved his dear wife. No. Preposterous.

But then why did her 'thank you for last night' bother him so much? he wondered.

He didn't like the answer slowly forming in his mind: pride. His male pride felt a bit hurt at thinking that she had used him for her need, that she had come to him to get something and had obtained exactly what she wanted from him. But again, it shouldn't bother him: after all, she had been crystal clear about it when she told him – twice! – that she needed him, needed _it_! When she practically _begged_ him!

Objectively, any man would feel flattered by that, so his male pride should rather feel boosted and content! And truth be told, he admitted that despite his efforts which he thought absolutely heroic on the moment, he didn't really resist too much to her when she knocked at his door. And he didn't remember complaining in the course of what followed. Quite the contrary, even!

No, he decided, he didn't have anything to complain about, but just a prowess to be proud of and one more good memory to cherish.

He pushed the sheet to the bottom of the bed to get up. When he was still sitting on the edge of the mattress and about to stand up, he spotted something blue in the bed. Her ribbon! The one he had untied to free her wild mane of hair. He reached to it with his right hand and took it between his fingers. He'd give it back to her at breakfast or later during the day.

Or on second thought, perhaps he'd keep it as a trophy, he considered with a slightly smug smirk on his lips.

 _As a keepsake,_ he thought, his smirk turning into a fond little smile.


	28. Ch 28 - Diego's morning after

Diego woke up with a feeling of hangover without having drunk one drop of alcohol the night before. But what he had had to swallow a few hours earlier was harder to digest than Victoria's wine or tequila.

The thought of Victoria brought up other memories of the night before that weren't making his waking-up any less uncomfortable. What had gotten into her, for God's sake? He had flinched and nearly jumped back when she had so boldly touched his most private area – twice! But deep down he knew that what made him recoil before her very forward advances wasn't some gentlemanly propriety but was indeed sheer fear and panic.

He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to show her all of himself, to remove his mask before her, to show her his face and reveal his identity to her, and thus risk her rejection of him, of his real feelings for her. As himself. He hadn't yet the courage to show himself naked before her, emotionally speaking: to lay his soul bare for her to see.

He could still make love to her with his mask on, as she had precisely offered him – _asked_ him? – to do. Except that no, he couldn't. He wanted her to want _him_ , and not the other one. And he feared that deep down she preferred to make love to the masked man, to the mystery, to the _illusion_ rather than to the real man. And certainly rather than to plain and unexciting Diego de la Vega, even finally knowing he was her secret courtier and heroic fighter. In the course of five years, she had never shown the slightest hint of attraction toward him, so how could she suddenly love _him_ , just because he'd turn out to be Zorro? No way, he thought dejectedly.

He'd end up living his life all alone, with no Victoria to live with everyday that God would make, and with no children to see grow up and become adults, no children to love, no children making him a father, no children to take care of him if, by some extraordinary luck, he finally survived Zorro's fight to become and old, wrinkled and white-haired aged-impaired respectable elderly gentleman.

He sighed despondently. Then he sadly and derisively laughed at his previous thought: it might very well happen that way, after all, and against all odds. _Unlucky in love, lucky in gamble,_ they say. And Zorro's existence and deeds were a constant gamble. So yes, as unlucky in love as he was, Diego may live to become a very old man. But not a grandfather. Not even a father.

This thought drove his mind to his own father: as things were, Leonor was likely to make Don Alejandro a grandfather _before_ Diego, against all initial odds!

Thinking about his newly found half-sister brought another very uneasy thought to his mind after what he stumbled upon on his return home a few hours earlier, a sudden thought vaguely involving his father having another late child in the near future. Oww. What on earth was in this woman's mind? Was she really the good person his father told him she was, or had she come here with ulterior motives? Had she a hidden agenda, or was she just the kind of person to seize the moment, and to hell with planning or consequences?

Nice consequence though, Diego thought, thinking of little Leonor. At least she now was a mother, and a good one for what he could see. Perhaps himself should think a little less and act a little more, he reflected.

Except that he was still sheerly terrified of Victoria, he finally admitted. Yes, he really was the poltroon everyone thought he was, he realised; Los Angeles's greatest coward. A chicken, as Felipe so rightly said. He sighed again, before sweeping these thoughts away.

Time to get up! Staying in bed was only making him think too much, mull over too much and about not-so-pleasant matters.

The sun had already risen but he knew his father would be surprised to see him up so 'early'. Well, if his mind wasn't too occupied by thoughts about someone else, that was.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Once he was ready, dressed, shaved and his hair combed, just to be sure and to put his mind at rest he decided to go have a look at Leonor's safety.

Well, he obviously wasn't the only one who had had this idea first thing in the morning, since he found Doña Araceli sitting at her bedside. Exactly where he had left her the night before when he had pretended to go to bed. You could almost think she had spent the whole night here, except she was only clad in her night attire – not even a dressing gown over her nightshirt, but a large shawl wrapped around her – and her hair was down and unruly spread over her back and shoulders. It was incredibly long, Diego remarked. He could even better assess its length when she politely stood to greet him as he entered the room: her hair was falling down almost to her... uh... bottom. To the small of her back, to be more correct, in both senses of the word.

Yes, you could almost think that she had spent the whole night at her daughter's bedside, except that Diego knew fairly – and painfully – well that at least at some point into the night she was in a totally different part of the house than the guestrooms' side.

"She is still asleep," she first whispered to him, raising her index finger to her lips in a clear sign meant to tell him not to make too much noise. He nodded his understanding.

"Buenos días, Señora," he told her in a whisper.

"Oh, yes, sorry," she answered likewise, "where are my manners. Buenos días Don Diego," she finally replied to his greeting. "Did you sleep well?" she added.

He probably didn't, she thought, seeing his drawn features. The man had said thrice the day before that he had a headache, and at first Araceli had thought it was just an excuse to avoid her and her mere presence or not to go look for his abducted half-sister, but seeing how listless and weary he looked, seeing how his shoulders were slumped and how he was shuffling, seeing his hollow eyes and the dark circles under these, he may really be unwell, she thought.

Or perhaps Alejandro was right and this listlessness, this languor was just his son's usual attitude. But no, she thought when she saw how haggard he looked despite how impeccably trim he otherwise appeared, he was really tired. And she chastised herself when she remembered that he too had suffered a loss when his father's unknown other son, his own twin brother, had been killed just two month earlier _while trying to kill him!_ That was enough to shatter and upset anyone for several weeks and make him look despondent she thought, remorseful for her first harsh judgement of Alejandro's son.

"I slept alright," he lied, "thank you." Politeness would normally have him ask back the question, but he really, really did _not_ want to inquire about her night. He already knew far too much about how she spent part of it.

He really wanted to turn his back to them, particularly when he saw Señora Valdès's fulfilled look on her relaxed face. But then he turned his eyes to Leonor. His _sister_ , he remembered. _None of this is her fault,_ he had to repeat to himself over and over.

"Are you feeling better today, Don Diego?" Araceli asked in a low voice. "How is your headache this morning?"

"I'm much better, thank you Señora," he simply replied.

 _Your features say otherwise,_ Araceli thought inwardly. _Anyone who didn't know you were unwell yesterday might think you're in a foul mood..._

And yet he was here, at the bedside of this half-sister who was a total stranger to him, although he would clearly be better in his own bed for a few more hours of beauty sleep.

"That's very considerate of you to come check on Leonor first thing in the morning, Don Diego, thank you," she murmured.

"Well, my father is right: we're siblings, we should start to get to know each other a little bit. I think I'll spend some time with her this morning, with your permission Señora."

She stood up and walked to him; he saw her hesitate to take his hands in hers and was relieved when she gave up the idea. But she raised her head to him, with relief and gratitude written all over her face.

"Gracias Don Diego. Yes, I'd be glad to have you and Leonor get better acquainted over some activity in the morning. What do you plan to do with her?"

 _Do?_ Oh, yes, children just didn't simply sit in an armchair or at a table and converse for two hours without doing anything else. They generally engage in an activity and then chat while doing it.

"Err... I don't know," Diego admitted, at a loss. "Does she play the piano?"

"Yes, but she's not too fond of it," Doña Araceli answered with a little smile. "You'd better try something she likes, if you want to win her over."

"And precisely, what does she like?"

"Erm... let's see..." she replied. "Riding..."

Diego pulled a face.

"Oh, I'm afraid I have no gift for that, unfortunately," he replied. "As my father didn't fail to point out yesterday," he added in a falsely neutral tone.

She didn't miss the hurt he tried to disguise in his voice and for a split second her heart felt sad and ached a little bit for him. She suddenly felt the need to lighten the mood.

"Well, then... how do you fare at climbing trees?" she asked with an impish smile.

He looked at her with mock horror in his eyes.

"Do you want my death on your conscience, Señora?"

She giggled and he laughed as well. But his previous exclamation nearly roused Leonor and she turned in her bed. They both went silent and held their breath, looking at her, but she didn't wake up.

"Phew," he sighed. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to my voice. I had forgotten. I didn't mean to wake her."

"No harm done Don Diego, don't worry. So, if horse-riding and tree-climbing are out of question, what else? Hide and seek? It would be a good way for you to better let her discover the hacienda and its secret places!"

 _No way!_ Diego immediately thought. After all, Felipe was right: children her age were far too nosy. Especially if his own blurry recollections of himself as a six or seven years old were anything to go by.

"I'm not good at hiding, Señora. Too tall for that, I guess. And I'm so clumsy that I would betray my presence within a few seconds."

Decidedly, Araceli thought, Don Diego really didn't have any talent or interest for anything remotely physical. He seemed to be just as Alejandro had told her. Was he really such a great clumsy oaf?

Something more centred on the intellect, then?

"A game of chess, perhaps?" she proposed. "She's started playing it last year. And she already has more patience than her father for that!" she added in a smile. "Although she's an even sorer loser than he is..."

Diego couldn't help but smile too. Indeed, patience wasn't his father's forte.

"More my area," he agreed, "but that's not an activity very propitious to chatting with a child, is it?"

"No, you're right of course," she replied with another feeble smile.

"What else does she like, then?" Diego asked.

"Hmmm... drawing..." Araceli said. "Her lessons are starting to bear fruits and she seems to enjoy these."

"Well, wonderful!" he told her. "I have quite an interest for this too. Perhaps I can show her one or two tricks about technique... and she will show me what she can do and what she likes to draw!"


	29. Ch 29 - Bittersweet breakfast and humble pie for lunch

Diego barely dared look at his father over breakfast. Seeing the looks he exchanged with Señora Valdès while greeting her and gallantly helping her to a chair had made him almost queasy, and having them sit opposite each other was making him rather uneasy. Let's hope she wouldn't play footsie with him! Against his better judgement he even dropped his napkin twice and his bread once just in order to check by peeking under the table.

But no. Both were behaving perfectly normal and properly. If not for the intent and meaningful gaze at the beginning, you could now swear nothing had happened between those two the night before.

Humph, Diego grumbled inwardly, he would have to remember that he wasn't the only one who was good at pretending under this roof, even though this thought was still very new to him; but after all, he reflected, he had to have taken this trait after someone, hadn't he?

But he shouldn't have worried about any footsie-playing: after a few minutes, the atmosphere really wasn't favourable to saucy ribaldry since they were discussing the upsetting events of the day before, and the continuing search for Pablo Ortega's accomplices.

When the name of her tenant-farmer came up in the conversation, Diego saw Araceli's hand tighten around the handle of her silver table knife and he was relieved that the man wasn't there, or he might have had to prevent an attempt of murder.

Not that with its rounded tip the blade would have done much damage, but still... And Diego wasn't sure whether his father would have helped him keep her from it, or whether he would have teamed with her: he too was very upset at the previous day's painful recollections.

But then Concepcion brought Leonor in, and her parents' mood changed drastically. Doña Araceli relaxed immediately and pure love and tenderness flooded over her face. Relief, too. Don Alejandro had the sweetest look ever when he fondly watched his daughter say good morning to her mother, then he hugged her longer than usual and laid a lingering soft kiss on her forehead with his eyes closed when she came to him. With a last caressing pat on her arm he finally let go of her, and she suddenly looked down at her shoes.

Concepcion had retreated to the background, waiting for her mistress's instructions for the day. For now, Araceli was taking care of reminding her daughter of good manners: raising children was a constant fight against turning a blind eye to bad habits, and a matter of seemingly endless repetition! So once again she had to tell her:

"Your manners, Leonor! Say good morning to Diego."

"Good morning, Señor," the child bashfully and almost reluctantly complied, still looking down.

"You can call me Diego," he told her in the gentlest voice he could manage. "I'm your brother, after all."

The girl simply nodded without raising her eyes to him, but she didn't utter a word.

 _Pfff_ , Diego sighed inwardly, she's certainly not making things easier! But his spirits were heightened when he saw the approving look in Don Alejandro's eyes. It had been a long time since his father last looked at him like that. Approval, mixed with some dose of gratitude. It immediately warmed Diego's heart.

"Leonor," her mother then said, "I told Diego of your interest in drawing and of the progress you've made since you started your lessons. He's curious to see it and offered to show you one or two things about drawing this morning, and to lend you his pencils and sketchbooks for the duration of our stay here."

Again she nodded, watching her shoes intently.

"Leonor...!" Araceli warned her.

This time the child understood what was expected from her without further explanation from her mother, so she dared raise her head and answer:

"Gracias, Señor."

"Gracias _Diego_ ," Araceli corrected.

"Gracias Diego," Leonor finally said to no one in particular.

"Si," Alejandro echoed, "gracias Diego. Muchas gracias."

His father clearly knew it cost his son, but he was confident that, once being left one-on-one, those two would finally break the ice. And as in his fatherly eyes Leonor was the most adorable child in the world, it was impossible not to become absolutely fond of her once you knew her. And, in his same fatherly eyes, Diego was the kindest and gentlest young man in the world, and it was absolutely impossible not to like him.

Understanding him was a totally different matter altogether, and Lord knew he indeed didn't understand his son's behaviour and interests most of the time; but he loved him deeply and it seemed unfathomable to the father in him that anyone – and particularly a child – who knew Diego could not have a soft spot for him. Even though the man was frustrating to no end, he thought with an inner sigh.

"All right, then," Alejandro said. "I'll be out this morning and will have lunch in the pueblo. I have things to do around there. I'll also speak to the alcalde to inquire about Ortega's interrog–"

Suddenly remembering that the subject may upset Leonor, he stopped short.

"Well, I'm on my way, then."

"Leonor and I might go to the pueblo too after siesta," Araceli said.

"Are you sure...?" Alejandro asked, rather reluctant to have them exposed again to people's judgement.

"Yes," she simply replied. "And I want to personally thank your alcalde for his help yesterday, even though someone else eventually brought Leonor back."

At the memory of the black bat-like man the girl tensed, sill a bit frightened by this dark faceless ghost.

"And you Diego?" his father asked. "Will you come in town later today?"

Good question. Coming to town meant going to the tavern, especially if his father was there. And going to the tavern meant seeing Victoria. And after last night's events and conversation in her bedroom, he wasn't sure he was up to it. Thank goodness she didn't know who was the man she made such bold advances to the night before, didn't know who it was in the real life, didn't know it was _him_ , or for sure he wouldn't dare show his face in front of her for several days. And perhaps ever again.

Yes, he thought, Victoria had been right: he truly was a coward.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," he answered his father's question, brilliantly managing to sound nonchalant. "After spending some time with Leonor this morning, I might ride to the hills to collect plants in order to complete my herbarium about indigenous flora used for Indian remedies..."

"Always your nose in some book..." Alejandro grumbled. "It can't be healthy in the long run..."

"But I'll precisely be outside, in the fresh air!" Diego pointed out.

Did his father miss the part where he said he'd be in the hills?

"Right, right, hijo. Just try not to fall from your horse. At least take Felipe with you, in case anything happens there."

Diego couldn't suppress a sigh, which didn't go unnoticed by Doña Araceli.

"Si, Father," he finally let out. "Thank you for the idea."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Alejandro knew he had to do this. He didn't like this, but he had to. Now he had to be a man and face his peers who now knew what he had done. He wasn't looking forward to it, but now had come the time.

The day before he had been too overwhelmed by his emotions – anguish at first, and then surprise, intense relief, overjoy at having Leonor back safe and sound, and finally worry about Diego's judgement and about his behaviour toward his sister – to pay much attention to others' reactions; but now he really dreaded it: how would the Los Angelinos take his past failing? How would they take the public knowledge that he, one of the most prominent and respected figures of their community, had had a child out of wedlock? That he strayed with a woman who could be his daughter!

Would they see him as some pathetic aging Don Juan? Or worse, as a sugar daddy? Would they just laugh at him, or shun him totally?

Would they congratulate him for getting himself such a younger woman?

Would they mock him for accidentally getting her with child? Would they blame him for that? Or for tarnishing a woman's reputation and not cleansing her name by making the honourable thing and giving her his?

And even more than his fellow caballero friends or the farmers, Alejandro dreaded their wives' reactions. What would the ladies think of him? Of the fact that he didn't marry Araceli? No one could know, of course, that he proposed marriage to her as soon as he knew of her pregnancy, and they didn't have to know about her rejection of his offer.

And how did Victoria 'digest' the news, now that one night had passed since he introduced his daughter to her?

No, Don Alejandro de la Vega was really not looking forward to entering the tavern, the centre of any social activity in Los Angeles at lunchtime; but he knew deep down that the more he'd wait, the worst it would be.

Here, two feet away from the tavern's porch, he was really, really tempted to turn his back and retreat to the privacy of his hacienda. But it would be very cowardly of him, he knew that, and it would never be said that Alejandro de la Vega was a coward. So he took a determined step forward and resolutely strode into the main room.

Alone. He didn't want to expose Leonor to the public disapproval of her father, of her parents. And even less to some slighting or derogatory word about her or her status, uttered by a tactless or downright ill-meaning consumer.

He didn't want to expose Araceli either. Lord knows she had had enough of that in the past and on her own in San Diego in the first year of Leonor's existence – and a few months before! – and now that things had cooled down over there, he didn't want to use her here as a shield against his own acquaintances and to hide behind his ex-lover's skirts. No.

He could still have dragged Diego along to the tavern with him of course, but he wouldn't hide behind his son either; Alejandro wasn't that kind of man, and he didn't need his son to protect him. Which was fortunate, he thought, what with poor Diego being unable to protect himself against anyone, for a start!

As expected, and just like the day before, as soon as people noticed he had entered the room there was a significant decrease in the usual level of noise and many pairs of eyes turned to him; mostly to peek as discreetly as possible, but some people overtly stared at him rather intently. Some men winked at him, some others sent him a mischievous look, two or three eyebrows rose appreciatively, and the rest was frowning. Two or three turned ostensibly to another direction.

He could see that Victoria – oh, she looked drawn he noticed, did she get enough sleep? – seemed torn between not looking him in the eyes and wanting to put him out of the current misery he was experiencing from her other customers.

He tried to ignore the unwillingly slightly judgemental part of her attitude and held onto the more benevolent part of it. Deep down, he knew that this girl was a true friend and that she too would do her best to come round. Heaven helps those who help themselves, he remembered: now he had to be strong, for Leonor, for the name he was bearing, so indirectly for Diego too; he thus gathered his strength and put up a brave front to face the pueblo's little community.

"Buenos días Victoria," he tried to say as normally and with as much joviality as usual, "what do you have for lunch today?"


	30. Ch 30 - A true caballero

"How are you really doing, Don Alejandro?" Victoria asked him discreetly when she brought him his plate, pointedly hinting at some of the other customers' whispers and looks.

His answer was a disillusioned but brave smile, along with a self-derisory short sigh. He was taking the blame like a man, she thought, and not without elegance. And even dignity, quite paradoxically. _Gentlemanly_. Always the caballero, she thought.

Even though some of the whispers she caught on her way to his table said otherwise:

"Not a true gentleman," Don Virgilio had told his teenaged sons when she passed by them. "Don't even think of doing the same, you two. If ever you did, as long as I'm alive I'd have you marry the girl immediately!"

"That's unworthy of a caballero!" an indignant young Don Raul had murmured two tables further.

"Don't be so harsh, Raul," his brother had replied. "Don Alejandro just had the bad luck of being found out, that's all... For the rest... well, it could happen to anyone, you'll see when you're older..."

Victoria sighed: couldn't all these people mind about anything else? Didn't they have their own concerns to talk and worry about, rather than gossiping about a man she liked? A _good_ man, despite his unexpected failing.

She watched his sheepish brave little smile: quite a strange mix, she thought. "So, how are you, _really_?" she repeated in a gentle voice.

"My daughter is safe and sound, as well as her mother," he said. "And Diego seems to accept Leonor, finally. So this is all that's really important. All the rest is..."

He made a slightly dismissive gesture with his hand, but Victoria could swear that his heart wasn't totally in it: he was trying to convince himself, but she guessed that whatever he said, it was still hard on him to be the subject of public talk and criticism. As well as of public awe and praising little smiles.

"I guess I'll just have to let it wash over me. As long as neither Leonor nor Araceli bear the brunt of it, I'll just... grin and bear it..."

Again he had a self-depreciating little smile, and at the sight of this smile, it was just impossible to resent him.

But a bell of recollection rang in her head at this sort of smile... Something rather familiar, that she vaguely associated with Don Alejandro... no, rather with the de la Vegas... with Don Diego of course! Yes she had seen this self-depreciating look on Don Diego's face more than once, but never before on his father's!

Well, _like son, like father_ she thought. Those two had finally more in common than they thought... than _everyone_ thought! So how come that this little smile was impossible to resist to on Don Alejandro's face, when she was just frustrated to no end when his son sported it?

Probably because Don Diego was truly hopeless, whereas his father usually was a man who succeeded in many of what he tried his hand at! Yes: Don Diego, with all his knowledge and cleverness, didn't understand the first thing about everyday life, about the real world, about the pueblo, about love, about women, and about all the aspects of life in general. The man lived in his own little world. And now a little girl had crashed into this world of his... so he'd have to peek beyond his books from time to time as of then, and in Victoria's opinion it could only do him some good! The man really needed to open to the real world, and he certainly could do with a little bit more social interactions.

She turned back her thoughts to his father. He obviously wanted to protect his daughter and his... uh... _woman_ , and he was willing to take all the blame on himself, to shoulder the responsibility in order to 'shield' the woman he had wronged and the child he had fathered. Don Raul, Don Virgilio, the vaqueros and the peons could say whatever they wanted, she thought, Don Alejandro de la Vega definitely was a true caballero, a real gentleman. In every sense of the word.

A very honourable man, she concluded, even though socially accepted rules pretended otherwise. Señora Valdès was lucky to have such a man as a father for her child. She could have done far worse!

And again she envied the woman. If Zorro still refused himself to her, could she find such a man to father her children before she was too old for that? But which honourable man would accept to sire a child out of wedlock, with full knowledge of the facts? Which good and reliable man would accept to grant her her wish and make her a mother? Even in Don Alejandro and Doña Araceli's case, Victoria understood that Leonor had been an unplanned accident. A wonderful one, sure, but considering the situation, at the time Don Alejandro hadn't meant to get Señora Valdès pregnant.

So morally speaking, there was a paradox in her quest: Victoria wasn't sure she could find a man with the required moral qualities who'd accept her rather scandalous proposition. And contrary to last night, she couldn't just try to seduce the man. First, because it might very well not work: Zorro's turning down of her overtures had dealt a blow to her self-confidence and she was now more than a bit unsecure about the power of her charms. And anyway, she didn't want to trick a man into paternity: not that she didn't try it with Zorro, but well, in his case it was different. He had promised her marriage, and a family, but for later. _Always_ later. He owed her that, as she had thought on the moment.

But no other man owed her anything, so she'd have to be honest and crystal clear with them. And not feign any romantic feeling or let the man hope for anything else than some carnal moments. And a child, if ever he wanted to take responsibility and acknowledge paternity of his offspring.

But this still very virtual man would have to meet so many requirements that it seemed really impossible to find someone who'd fit the profile...

First, he must be single. An unmarried, unengaged man, or a widower. Victoria would never steal – or in this case, _borrow_ – another woman's man. No way.

Second, it must be someone she could trust. Fully trust. Someone who wouldn't take advantage of the situation: if he ever chose to acknowledge paternity for the child, she knew that according to the law, married or not the father had more rights and authority on his child than the mother. How unfair! But it meant she would have to find a really, really decent and trustworthy man.

Third, it had to be someone she could get along with: if they were to take decisions in common about the child's upbringing or future, it must be someone she could discuss with. Ideally, it must be someone she could be friends with. Or even better, someone she already was on friendly terms with, all the more so to help her dare present to him the very unusual and rather scandalous proposition she had in mind.

Fourth, he should be healthy: she didn't want to catch any venereal disease. Yes, but the problem was, it was never written on people's forehead. You could never know... Sometimes even the strongest, healthiest young man was in fact secretly affected. Often unknowingly so. So she'd have to rule out those whom she knew frequented paid women or had too much success with the ladies... and probably soldiers, too. Except perhaps Mendoza? He was a well-behaved and sensible man, even during military campaigns she was sure...

And he was single... and a friend... and a good man... and an orphan: he'd probably want a child in order to have what could resemble a family. He was kind. And good with children: she remembered little Leonor took an almost immediate liking to him the day she arrived.

Yes, Jaime Mendoza would definitely be on her list of potential... 'associates'... in that delicate business; a list which would anyway be probably very short, she thought regretfully.

But one other question remained: would she really dare put her plan into motion, and would she dare go through with it? All the way and right to the end?

And if so, would Zorro ever understand... and forgive her?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Buenos días, Señorita Escalante."

Victoria turned to the voice to see who was coming into her tavern. Like earlier when Diego's father had entered, the conversation paused for a split second before turning into a concert of whispers when the woman from San Diego and her daughter – _Don Alejandro's_ daughter! – stepped inside.

"Oh, buenos días Señora Valdès," Victoria answered. "Buenos días Señorita Leonor."

"Buenos días Señora," the girl answered spontaneously.

"Are you looking for Don Alejandro?" Victoria asked Doña Araceli.

"Not particularly," the woman answered. "We've come for some refreshment. It's rather hot today, and Leonor remembered how tasty your lemonade is. But if he's still here we'd gladly share our pitcher with him."

"No, he's gone," Victoria informed her. "He had lunch here but he left some time ago."

Mother and daughter sat down at a table and Victoria saw their maid join them a few minutes later. She took a small book out of her purse and handed it to the little girl. She suddenly remembered what Señora had told her about her daughter two days before: _she's rather bookish, that's something running in the family_. At the time she probably referred to her own family, because anyone knowing Don Alejandro knew that, although he respected books and valued some level of knowledge, he couldn't exactly be called 'bookish'.

But now that Señora Valdès had met Don Diego, she certainly couldn't help but notice this other similarity between the two half-siblings – apart from some evident physical likeness. 'Running in the family' indeed...

But when she brought her their drinks, Victoria saw that the book in question was in fact a sketchbook, and little Leonor was scribbling on it with a lead pencil. A charcoal pencil and a red chalk were also lying on the table before her.

"Gracias Señora," the child said when a glass of lemonade was put in front of her.

Victoria noticed that this time her mother didn't need to nudge or prompt her daughter for the polite reply: the girl seemed to be in a merrier mood than the day before, and she obviously was feeling more at ease now.

"If ever you'd want to go back to the hacienda with Don Alejandro," Victoria informed her mother, "I think he's gone to the churchyard..." she added in a lower voice.

Señora Valdès nodded slowly.

"Yes, yesterday has been hard on him. It distracted him from him current sorrow, but it also took a toll on him, on all of us. I guess he needs some time to recover. We all have to, and we all have our own way to do so..."

Her voice drawled on these last words, and her eyes seemed to look inside her own mind, Vitoria noticed, wondering what the señora's way of dealing with these hardships was or had been.

"And how is your daughter doing today?" she asked Doña Araceli in a whisper. "Is she recovering from yesterday's ordeal?"

"Yes, surprisingly well I must say," her mother answered. "She surprises me. It never ceases to amaze me how resilient children can be... But yes, she's doing rather well today; partly thanks to Don Diego, in fact. I'm sure he has a part in it!"

"Don Diego?" Victoria wondered.

"Yes, he's been good with her this morning. You were right about him, and I'm glad I've listened to you yesterday. He seems to really be the kind and understanding man you told me he is. Thank you."

Victoria smiled at her.

"I'm sure he'll make a great big brother. He knows a lot of things, you know, and I'm sure he's eager to share these with someone else than Felipe."

"Felipe?"

"The deaf young man who works as a servant for the de la Vegas."

"Oh, yes."

"Don Diego is a good man. I'm glad for your daughter that she has him for a brother. She's lucky. As you said yesterday, family is important. There's nothing like that," Victoria stated. "And it's even more obvious to those who lack one," she added almost ruefully.


	31. Ch 31 - Victoria's quest

Today was indeed really hot, Victoria reflected as she saw Señora Valdès take out a lacy handkerchief to dab at her sweaty face, and then fan herself with it. That's when she saw, thanks to the smear left on the fabric, that Doña Araceli had been wearing make-up. Some sort of powder to make her skin appear fairer, plus a rosy blush. Honestly, what kind of women wore blush in these remote areas of the Spanish empire! What kind of women _owned_ blush?! Victoria's mother had always told her that honest women pinched their cheeks, and that powder was for... well, _other_ sort of girls.

But when the señora folded her handkerchief to put it back in her purse, Victoria now could see that a wide bluish bruise was spreading over her left upper cheek and creeping up to her temple.

And she remembered what she overheard the day before when she and Don Alejandro were discussing the events of the afternoon: when Doña Araceli had followed the tracks of her daughter's abductor and found them, one of those men had hit her in the face.

Ouch, it must have been quite some punch! Now that the powder wasn't totally covering it anymore, Victoria could assess the damage: ow, it was probably still hurting a bit! Poor woman. But the fighter in Victoria couldn't help but admire her and approve of her reaction at her daughter's abduction. She and Don Alejandro sure found each other. If only Don Diego could take a leaf out of her book!

At the same moment a group of soldiers entered the tavern, and Victoria noticed that Sergeant Mendoza was among them. Mendoza... yes, why not? She'd have to chat with him to test the water.

She thought further: who else could she put on her list? Then a sudden thought sprouted in her mind, but she discarded it immediately after: no, Don Alejandro really already had his share of problems and scandal for now, he didn't need another one on top of things! Admittedly he was a great father, a reliable man, a friend of her family, a widower, a wonderful man and so one, but no. And perhaps there was still Doña Araceli in the equation. Not to mention that he would say no, and even try to dissuade her.

And anyway she couldn't get over his age. No, she really couldn't.

Nor could she get over the fact that he had been her father's friend. That he had known her as a child and used to bounce her on his knees. Or that he was Don Diego's father. Really, what would Don Diego think of her? He'd probably never want to talk to her ever again. And she'd never dare look him in the eyes.

And anyway, with Don Alejandro she could never... Never.

Not to mention that Don Alejandro was a caballero. And rich. Too rich. Too high. Off limits for a middle class woman like herself. Señora Valdez was a lady. She, Victoria Escalante, wasn't. She was just a working-class girl who had reached middle-class thanks to some success in her job. Doña Araceli was upper-middle class, with the upbringing that came with it. And already rich, according to Victoria's standards.

A caballero was unattainable for a girl like herself, she reflected. People would say she's after his money. Or his station. Would call her a gold digger. Since the previous days' stunning revelations, she had heard what some of her customers said of Señora Valdès and of her supposed interest for the de la Vega's wealth. Victoria was ready to endure many gossips, to put up with bad words about her conduct, to be called loose – or even worse – and just grin and bear it, but she wouldn't agree with being called venal. She wouldn't accept for people to think that she wanted to take advantage of an unsuspecting man, or that she was the kind of woman disposed to sell herself. No.

But then, _who_ , apart from Mendoza? She mentally added to her list José Riva: he was a farmer, he was single, he was an honest and nice man... but she didn't know him that personally, it would seem weird to approach him with this idea. Well, that was something that could be arranged, she thought, she'd chat a bit more with him from now on.

And he was young, a good point for him. And handsome, which didn't hurt. Not that it was important, she reflected on second thought: after all, she didn't know Zorro's face, and she didn't mind: he could be ugly as sin under this mask, he'd still be the brave and generous heart she knew and loved, the dashing hero she wanted.

Then a funny thought came to her mind: what if on her mental list she unknowingly added the man under the mask? But from funny it turned to frustrating: if ever he was the man she finally propositioned, he'd probably be mad at her for planning to have intercourses with someone else – well, someone else than himself, or rather of his Zorro-self, even it would still be him, but him-himself and not him-Zorro, and... Oh, Dios, all this was so confusing!

Alright. Jaime Mendoza, José Riva... who else? Couldn't Heaven give her a hint, a clue, a sign as to who could be willing to make a child with her and not become a nuisance to her about it? Couldn't divine Providence make the man suddenly appear before her eyes or enter her tavern right now?

Pff, she thought, considering how... questionably moral and morally questionable her plan was, of course she'd better not count on God's helping hand this time.

No, she'd have to think thoroughly to find the right man for the job. It would be far too easy if he could just turn up in her tavern right then! Ah, but if only she could just jump on the first man who'd cross the threshold to drag him upstairs to her bed, and be sure he was the best choice! _Please, please, please, Santa Madre de Dios, por favor, make him appear!_

"Buenos días, Victoria!"

"Hmm?" she said, still half lost in her inner thoughts. "Oh, yes, buenos días Don Diego," she absent-mindedly answered his greeting before going back to her kitchen with the pile of empty plates she had just cleared from the tables.

Really, why didn't chance or providence help her at least a little bit and give her a small nudge in the right direction?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Good, very good Leonor," Diego commented as he bent over the little girl's shoulder to take a better look at the sketch she had been drawing for the last quarter of an hour, while her mother and him were talking over drinks in the tavern.

As she was passing by, Victoria peeked at the sketch: a landscape. A meadow, trees, a pathway and the outline of a hill on the left. It seemed vaguely familiar to her until recognition hit home: it was one of the paintings hanging on the walls of her tavern. The one opposite the child, in fact.

"Now," Don Diego went on as Victoria had her back to them, "in order to better render the perspective you can play with contrast. What's further will appear paler, so don't press too much your pencil on the paper. It will also make it appear hazier, like in reality when something is far away. And the closer your trees get to the forefront, the neater you will make them: by increasing the pressure on your pencil, but also by adding more detail like different shades of colour, or in this case, of grey. And don't forget about the shadows, remember where the light comes from: that's also how you will render the volume of your trees."

Leonor was diligently following his advice, and after some time she held the sketchbook at arm's length to assess the result of her work.

Then she shyly poked her newly found brother's forearm to get his attention while he was chatting with her mother.

"Like that?" she asked, showing him her masterpiece.

"Nice work," he commented. "Now don't forget to add the shadows of the trees projected on the grass."

She went back to the task and two minutes later, she proudly went to her mother and insistently patted her arm until Araceli gave her her full attention:

"Look, Mamá!" she said, displaying her sketch in front of her mother's eyes.

"That's very nice, mi gatita," Araceli commented.

At the same time, out of the corner of her eye Victoria saw the group of soldiers get up to leave the tavern and probably go back to the cuartel.

"Oh, Sergeant Mendoza!" she called out.

She knew she shouldn't let him out without speaking to him: she could feel that her bravery and resolution were wavering, and she didn't want to give herself the time to chicken out; it was not something easy to ask, and she knew it might alter forever the image her dear friend Mendoza had of her... but she had to strike when the iron was hot!

"Si Señorita?" the sergeant asked.

She walked to him and took him apart from the group.

"Can you come with me for a minute, Sergeant? I'd like to have a private word with–"

"Oh Señorita, I know I have run up quite a bill here, but I swear that as soon as our pay is–"

"What?!" Victoria asked, totally at a loss as to what Mendoza was telling her. "Oh!" she finally understood, "n– no... no, that's not what..."

"Sergeant," Corporal Sepulveda called out, "the alcalde is waiting for us!"

"Señorita," Mendoza told her, "I'm sorry but the alcalde... You know how he is... Can it wait until tomorrow?"

Victoria was a bit disappointed, but she nodded and smiled at him.

"Si, si... Will you have lunch here?"

"Probably."

"All right. See you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow, Señorita. Hasta mañana!"

On the way back to her counter Victoria noticed that little Leonor had gone back to drawing, and Don Diego was standing just behind her. Or rather bending over her shoulder. Which, from Victoria's point of view behind them, was bringing out his... _erm_... fundament. Ashamed at herself for staring at Don Diego's backside, Victoria quickly tore her gaze away from his behind and hastily settled her eyes elsewhere. Really, that was all the fault of these tight trousers. Yes, she entirely blamed this current trend for tight men's pants combined with very short jackets.

Couldn't resent a girl for ogling, in these conditions... right?

"See?" Don Diego was telling his sister, "all your lines of perspective, called vanishing lines, must converge to one point and only one, called vanishing point."

"But..." the child said, "but the paper is far too small!"

Diego had a gentle and amused laugh.

"Yes of course," he finally answered, "but this point doesn't have to be on the page! It can be further, beyond the paper. Like this."

He positioned the sketchbook on one end of the table and placed Leonor's seat near it. Then he took his empty glass and put it down on the opposite side of the table, in a corner.

"See? Now that you have drawn the front of the house and the gable end of the stables, you will draw the directions of the side walls by pointing to the glass: don't worry about the length right now, just draw the vanishing lines that all converge to the glass. Comprendes?"

"Si," the little girl answered, "but are you sure Señora Victoria will be very happy with me drawing lines on her table?"

Again, Diego had a kind laugh. Children, really!

"No! You don't have to actually write on the table, you must _imagine_ the line continuing beyond your paper!"

"But it's very difficult!" the girl complained. "And anyway I don't have a ruler!"

"You have to draw it freehand, Leonor," he retorted. "It's art, querida, not technical drawing of a blueprint!"

Victoria started a bit at the endearment. Well, apparently those two had finally broken the ice! She had never heard Don Diego use endearments with anyone... even less that one! It sounded... strange? Or strangely not that strange?

Well, whatever. He was still bent over her and leaning with one hand on the table – yes Victoria, that's it, watch the arm and not... elsewhere – while with his other hand, armed with a pencil, he was aiming at the glass and showing her how to proceed.

Señora Valdès had been right: Don Diego was good with her. They seemed to be getting along now, thanks to some sheets of paper and a few pencils. And to Diego's goodwill...

As Victoria had said earlier, he would make a great big brother. And who knows, if he finally gave up on his stubborn one-sided infatuation for some mysterious lady who didn't love him back, one day he'd probably make a good father. To Don Alejandro's utmost delight.


	32. Ch 32 - Girl talk

Diego and Leonor were a few tables away from Araceli who was still sitting and slowly sipping her drink. The two siblings were looking at their reflection in a mirror hanging on the tavern's wall at the foot of the stairs.

Victoria was watching them with a small smile: Diego was standing with his back to the room, and he had lifted Leonor in his arms so that the little girl could be at the level of the mirror. Watching their reflections they were playing 'spot the resemblance', it seemed.

"They don't look too bothered to find likenesses between them," Victoria commented to Doña Araceli while bringing her the biscuits she had ordered.

"Hmm?" Señora Valdès asked, putting down the sketchbook she had been looking at.

In a sharp movement, Victoria indicated the general direction of the stairs with her chin.

"Oh, yes!" Doña Araceli exclaimed. "Yes, they both take a bit after their father," she said with a fond smile.

Victoria put the plate down before the señora.

"Yes, there is much of Don Alejandro in your daughter... She's so clearly a de la Vega!"

"She's clearly a Ximénez too, believe me!" Araceli answered. "I passed onto her our unruly hair, our dark eyes, and – unfortunately – our crooked teeth! A hint of my complexion, too."

"Well," Victoria said politely, looking at the child, "the result of this mix is quite a success, I must say."

"Gracias Señorita," Araceli answered. "That's Alejandro's opinion too," she added with an impish smile, "but I'm not sure he's quite objective on that matter..."

Victoria laughed... Typical Don Alejandro! Proud of having made two beautiful children... Well, _three_ , Victoria thought with a bit of sadness: Don Gilberto hadn't been bad looking either, quite the contrary... Poor Don Alejandro, probably still on his wife's and his estranged son's graves at this same moment...

Victoria pushed these sombre thoughts away. She didn't want to ruin the current mood. In order to go back to the pleasant banter they had just been having – and to quench her own curiosity – she then told Araceli:

"Don Alejandro is clearly very fond of her..." She paused a bit. "So, tell me Señora," she added eagerly and in a woman-to-woman tone of confidence along with a knowing smile, "how did he win you over?"

Araceli looked at her, a bit surprised but not offended.

"I'm not sure either of us won the other over..." she replied pensively, "and if so, I'm not sure who won whom..."

She paused, seemingly retreating into her memories. Then a sweet, dreamy, soft little smile grazed her lips, strangely mixed with a hint of amusement.

"He was making me laugh..." she finally softly admitted in a tone of confession. Her words came out with another sweetly bashful and slightly impish smile, a strange mix that made her both lower her head a bit and raise on her twinkly eyes, while a light rosy natural blush was creeping to her cheeks and forehead. Then she self-consciously nibbled a bit at her lower lip.

 _Make her laugh and you're half-way there_ , Victoria remembered the common saying. Well, apparently in Señora Valdès's case it could work.

Victoria smiled. Did Zorro make her laugh? Sometimes, but he was mainly making her tremble for him and sigh of frustration; she had even already cried because of him, but only a few times...

"So, humour was the key?" she asked her conspiratorially. "That's what swept you off your feet?" she added with a wink.

Doña Araceli's look became dreamy, and the impish smile on her lips even took a slightly moony note while the sparkle in her eyes flashed and the light rosy blush came back to her cheek.

"Well..." she said, "he was also very charming... and dashing..."

She smiled at Victoria who smiled back.

"...with something in his eyes... a twinkle..." Araceli went on as Victoria nodded in agreement, "And a devastating smile..." she added.

She blushed further as her grin grew broad and she let out a small nostalgic sigh. Yes, Victoria thought, Don Diego had this same smile too... Took it after his father.

"...It was making my toes curl every time... in the good sense, if you see what I mean..." Doña Araceli completed.

Oh yes, Victoria knew what she meant. Toes curling, butterflies lightly fluttering in the stomach and so one... So really, and contrary to what she had initially suspected, Señora Valdès hadn't been attracted to his money or to his social position, after all...

And Victoria really wished little Leonor would have this same smile later, because on both her father and her brother it looked truly irresistible. Not to mention how it enhanced their 'de la Vega' dimples...

"So I must confess..." Doña Araceli went on after this pause, barely daring look her in the eyes, "I guess I already had a thing for him, I was unknowingly a bit... sweet on him, over the two or three years we'd been knowing each other before getting really close..."

 _'Getting really close'_ , that was how she called _that_ , Victoria thought. Quite an understatement: you certainly needed some level of closeness, physically speaking, to end up with a baby inviting itself!

"Funny how you can see someone on a regular basis during months and months and not realise you really like him," Araceli reflected aloud. "Really, _really_ like him, you know? Admittedly, I was already in a nice relationship at the time, and then in another... I guess it helped me not recognise the signs..."

 _Love_ , Victoria romantically thought.

"Attraction..." Doña Araceli stated. "Attraction is a strange thing. Totally independent from reason, beyond it, and beyond human will... Two people rub shoulders regularly, and suddenly one realises he's attracted to the other. Or sometimes, it's mutual since the beginning. Other times, it becomes mutual with some nudge... and sometimes it's purely one-sided and will always remain so. And often it decreases and then ceases as inexplicably as it began. Attraction has its own illogical and unpredictable laws, I guess; and we, mere mortals, just have to accept it and make do with it. Life is a whirl which plays with us and with our emotions; and whereas there are many areas of our life we can take control over thanks to some efforts, emotions are beyond our will and control."

Pondering this, Victoria set her gaze on the two siblings who were still searching each other's face for similarities in her mirror. Diego had pulled a chair next to himself and Leonor was standing on it; the girl let out a giggle as they were both hiding the upper half of their faces with their hands to let only the lower half show, and they were peeking at it through their fingers.

Yes, Victoria noted, the resemblance here was obvious: two rather square jaws, two sets of dimples, two endearing smiles...

This sight pulled at something in Victoria's mind, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what. Something looked strangely familiar here, but something she didn't immediately associate with either Don Alejandro or Don Diego... She searched her memory, but the answer evaded her. Still, it felt really familiar, but...

 _Well,_ she reflected, putting this thought aside, _whatever._ Of course it felt familiar! It was Don Diego's face after all... She had known him for... well, forever!


	33. Ch 33 - Tangled supposed relationships

Don Alejandro finally joined his 'extended' family in the tavern at the end of the afternoon, much to Leonor's delight.

By looking at her reflection in the mirror, the little girl had realised something she was looking forward to share with her father.

"Look Papá, now my hair is as short as yours!" she exclaimed. "I look like a boy," she stated matter-of-factly, not looking really bothered by this.

"You certainly don't, mi gatita," her father replied, "you're still the cutest little girl I know. And don't worry," he added in order to reassure her, "it will grow long again."

"Oh but I don't worry, Papá... That's funny!"

 _Ow_ , Don Alejandro thought, should he worry that his daughter _didn't_ worry for that? He glanced at Araceli who had watched and heard their short exchange, and she just shrugged at him: she didn't know what to think of it either, but didn't seem to worry too much about it.

Meanwhile, Leonor had taken Diego's sketchbook and thrust it into her father's hands.

"Look Papá, look at what I have done this afternoon!" she told him when she proudly displayed her last drawing before his eyes.

"Oh!" Don Alejandro said, "it's yours and Mamá's house!"

"You recognised it?" Leonor delightfully asked, rather proud of her achievement. "Mamá! Papá recognised it!" she exclaimed for all the tavern to hear.

"I made it all alone!" she then proclaimed.

Araceli ostensibly and meaningfully cleared her voice.

"Well," her daughter qualified in a far lower voice, "Diego helped me a little bit..."

" _A little bit_ , yes, you can say that..." Araceli pointedly said with an amused smiled, exchanging a knowing glance with Don Diego over the table.

The latter smiled back, biting his lips not to laugh. It made his dimples show even more, Victoria noticed from behind her counter.

"Indeed, Diego helped her _a little bit_ ," Araceli told Alejandro. "To put things into perspective," she added with a pointed look at Diego.

This time the young man couldn't hide his amusement any longer and openly laughed at Doña Araceli's intentional double entendre.

Victoria shrugged a bit disdainfully, with a hint of annoyance: oh, come on! Señora Valdès's pun hadn't been _that_ funny, really! Why did Don Diego have to laugh stupidly at it, and flash his teeth in the process!

No, really! Doña Araceli wasn't _that_ funny!

Don Alejandro guessed that some double meaning was escaping him, while his daughter remained blissfully ignorant to it. Encouraged by the success her sketch had, she then enthusiastically turned the page to her previous drawing.

"Very nice landscape," her father commented, pulling her in his lap.

"And look at what else I did this morning!" Leonor told him.

Father and daughter went on perusing through the sketchbook, turning page after page, while Diego gathered his courage to go to the counter. After the events of the previous night upstairs in her bedroom, he hadn't dared chat with Victoria, hardly even exchanged a word with her beyond the daily greetings and ordering a drink. Thank God she didn't know it was him she so boldly tried to seduce a few hours ago. Didn't know it was _him_ , Diego de la Vega, whom she dragged onto her bed. Didn't know it was along _his_ bare chest she had run her fingers and palms up and down...

 _Stop! Stop thinking of that,_ he chided himself. _And find something anodyne to tell her._

"Hola Victoria..." he started, not having a clue as to what to say next.

"Hola Don Diego", she answered rather coolly.

Was it his imagination, or Victoria's tone had just been rather... sharp? What did he do? _Oh Dios!_ did she know it _was_ him?

Diego panicked. He desperately search his brain for something to say, but she cut him short:

"It seems you're rather... delighted... with your future step-mother," she said in a slightly brisk tone.

 _What?!_ was all what Diego's suddenly frozen mind could come up with.

"What?!" he said aloud. "My _what_?"

 _Step-mother?_ Did she just say _step-mother_? And did she _stress_ the word?

"Well," Victoria commented, still looking a bit cold but also now surprised, "I suppose that if Don Alejandro made her and your sister come here and finally introduced them to you, it's because he has decided to regularise the situation, right?"

Diego felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't thought about that! But of course Victoria, as well as the rest of the pueblo, couldn't know that what prompted his father to finally set up this family reunion and make the introductions was in fact a despicable blackmail. But now that the secret was out in the open, perhaps... perhaps...

Well, apparently, if his father didn't think of it yet, other people obviously did for him!

Or perhaps he already did, and it was what the previous night between him and Doña Araceli had been about?!

Suddenly, Diego forgot anything about his own unease towards Victoria after his narrow escape from her bold advances.

But he remembered what his father had told him the day before: he had already proposed to Doña Araceli years ago as his duty demanded in order to put things right, and she declined the offer. Not much had changed in her situation since then, so there was no reason that she'd have now changed her mind about it, right?

Of course, Victoria didn't know about that either, but it bothered Diego a bit that Victoria of all people might have a wrong opinion of his father, a man she had always respected, esteemed and liked.

"Victoria," he told her conspiratorially, "I'm going to tell you something on that subject, but you must swear you won't tell a soul..."

She looked at him, clearly at a loss.

"And," he went on, "you must also swear you won't tell my father I told you about it!"

Victoria wondered what made him require so much secrecy from her, but she was so curious that she decided she wouldn't lose time asking him why the need for secret now that all of Los Angeles knew that Don Alejandro de la Vega had an illegitimate child.

"I swear," she simply said, eager to hear what he had to tell her.

He hesitated a bit, looked around them – good, everyone was otherwise occupied and no one was paying attention to their conversation – and finally leaned forward to her ear.

"As a matter of fact, he already proposed marriage to her when he knew she was with child, but she said no."

At this stunning revelation Victoria took a step back, probably to assess whether Don Diego was serious or whether he was pulling her leg. Seeing that he wasn't joking, she didn't say a thing but her eyes grew wide.

"No?" Victoria asked.

"No," he confirmed. "And I have no reason to think he lied to me about that. Not to mention that it's more like him."

"Of course it is..." she pensively stated. "But why did you make me swear secrecy? It's entirely to his credit, that he offered to do the honourable thing!"

"Yes, but..." Diego reluctantly answered, "well, Victoria, men don't really like everyone to know they've been turned down, you know... It's quite a blow to the ego... in addition to hurting..."

"Oh, I see..." Victoria said understandingly. "Yes, it's a matter of wounded pride..." she told him before pausing a bit. "And of broken heart of course," the eternal romantic in her added.

 _Broken heart...?_ Diego wondered. His father assured him it hadn't really been a love story between them, he remembered. It hadn't, right?

"A blow to his ego, yes," he repeated, deliberately ignoring Victoria's last comment. "You have no idea what being turned down can do to male pride. And to self-confidence, too," he said as a conclusion.

Oh, yes, Victoria remembered: _Zafira..._ Poor Don Diego! Not only had the misunderstanding between them broken his heart, but it had also apparently crushed his self-confidence with other women...

But really, he didn't have any reason to doubt himself and feel insecure! He was really kind and nice, great-hearted, he wasn't worse-looking than just any other, he was rich, he was educated, refined, had a good figure – no Victoria, stop seeing his backside before your mind's eye! – he was smart, pleasant to chat with, had charm and so one... No, really, Victoria couldn't see why he would doubt his chances of success with women.

Was the sad fact that he was stood-up at the altar all these years ago the reason why he hadn't reportedly courted any woman these past years? Was it the reason why he did never try his hand at winning over the heart of the mystery women he once told her he had feelings for?

And Señora Vadlès, why did she turn Don Alejandro down, particularly in her situation? Really, what was wrong with these women? And who did she think she was, thinking she could do better than him?

A sudden thought crossed Victoria's mind, and she really didn't like it. What if Doña Araceli thought that Don Alejandro was now too old for her? Perhaps she finally considered that she preferred younger men, after all? A man with the same kind of charm as Don Alejandro's, but more in her age range?

 _Oh dear!_ Thinking of how Señora Vadlès had exchanged private jokes with Don Diego a few minutes earlier, and how she had made him laugh, Victoria felt a bit queasy. No really, no! It was a truly sick idea, considering that he was her daughter's brother! _Really_ , Victoria told herself, she had to save him from this... this... this _Jezebel!_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Alejandro was idly perusing through the sketchbook, turning the pages backwards, looking at Leonor's childish drawings. Then, behind a clumsy scribbling representing a rose, he discovered a far more expert representation of what he recognised as his own rose garden, and Alejandro remembered it was in fact Diego's sketchbook. For lack of anything better to do he went on perusing through it; not that he had much interest for art but well, for once he had some time to kill...

A view of his rose garden, a portrait of a pensive Felipe, some sketches of their horses – oh, Dulcinea's legs were nicely rendered! – a portrait of Victoria, one of a smiling Padre Benitez, a landscape – a canyon with a very narrow stream – another portrait of Victoria, his hacienda seen from the garden, a portrait of Diego's deceased mother made after a painting hung in her son's bedroom, Alejandro recognised it – did the boy actually remember her features for real, he wondered wistfully, or had they eventually faded in his memory? – yet another portrait of Victoria – again! – Felipe reading a book, Victoria daydreaming...

Alejandro looked at all of his son's drawings, from last to first, and he found that Victoria Escalante was _very_ present in Diego's sketchbook. Very much.

He raised his nose from the book and glanced in his son's direction: he seemed to be deep in conversation with Victoria, leaning over the counter, hanging on her every word...

 _Oh,_ Don Alejandro thought as a hidden door slowly opened in his mind, could it be that Diego...

Oh! Oooh... Diego...

_Victoria?_

_Victoria Escalante?_

He looked back at some of his son's many portraits of his old friend Alfonso Escalante's daughter...

Diego...

Was it why his son hadn't courted any young woman since he came back from Spain, hadn't even seemed remotely interested in doing so? And why he was also rather reluctant toward the nice young and single ladies his father had purposely invited to his hacienda over the past years?

 _Victoria Escalante..._ Just his luck, Alejandro thought. Really, couldn't his son have a crush on a woman who wasn't head over heels for a man Diego couldn't compete with?

Zorro was all what Diego wasn't. How could his son ever dream winning her heart over, when he so clearly wasn't her type?

Well, obviously Diego wasn't hoping anything in that area, according to how he had always eluded all of his fatherly concerned questions about his future... Poor boy...

 _No!_ Alejandro suddenly decided. Diego wasn't a 'poor boy'; he was a de la Vega. He was a fine man with manners and knew how to treat a lady, and there was no reason to think he couldn't woo a woman and win her over from any man. _Any_. Even if he needed some fatherly nudge in the right direction. Except that Diego could sometimes be more stubborn than a mule, especially when his father was trying to meddle with his love life. Or lack of, to be more accurate.

Well, he'd just have to be more subtle about it this time... To keep a low profile... To keep his cards close to his chest... and to conceal his true motives as well as Zorro concealed his face.

When he saw his son come back to the table looking pensive, Don Alejandro noticed that Victoria seemed both rather grim and fierce. Had Diego told her something stupid _again_? Had he ruined his chances? Well, if so, better sort things out as soon as possible. And if not, time to pave the way for his hopeless son.

No, not 'hopeless', he reminded himself. All what Diego needed was a helping hand to give him faith in his abilities and in his lucky star. _Zorro my friend, you're an exceptional and very fine man, the most admirable I know, but my son is more important to me. Sorry, but all is fair in love and war. May the best suitor win!_

"You look as though there is something you're not telling me, Father," Diego told him. _Any matrimonial plan?_ the concerned son worried inwardly, throwing a glance in Doña Araceli's direction. He really didn't know how he'd feel about his father remarrying, but one thing was sure: the few times he had vaguely thought of this possibility, he had always imagined some elderly pepper-and-salt-haired lady dressed in brown, and certainly not someone his own age wearing pink or azure frilly dresses!

"Victoria, my dear!" his father called out.

"Si, Don Alejandro?" she answered, coming to their table.

"Would you by any chance be free to have dinner with us at the hacienda tonight?"

"Tonight?" she asked. "I didn't know you were throwing a party, Don Alejandro..."

 _I didn't know either,_ Diego thought inwardly. _Did he have an announcement to make?_ he wondered worryingly.

"Oh, no I'm not," Alejandro answered, "but it's just been quite some time since you had a night off, hasn't it? And I miss chatting with you about everything and nothing for more than a couple of minutes." He paused, pondering whether to add that Diego might miss it too, but he finally thought better not to mention his son, so as not to scare him away or being too obvious. "And that way, you'll make better acquaintance with Leonor... that's important to me that such a good friend as you now gets to know her. So, any chance you could find a replacement for you at the tavern tonight?"

Victoria glanced at Doña Araceli, who wondered why Don Diego a few seconds earlier, and Señorita Escalante just now seemed to suddenly be so interested in her. What had gotten into them? What had Alejandro said that had them glance at her that way?

"I'll be delighted to, Don Alejandro" Victoria answered, looking sideways at Señora Valdès and then at Don Diego. "I'm sure I can still find a replacement, even on such a short notice..."

And if not, she was even determined to close the tavern for the night: no way she would miss a chance to watch over Don Diego and Doña Araceli, and prevent him from falling into this Messalina's clutches.

"Wonderful!" Don Alejandro said. "Tonight, then?"

"Tonight."

They got up and were about to pay her when Alejandro gave his sketchbook back to Diego.

"You're really talented," he told him. "I loved the way you portrayed your mother... and your drawing of the rose garden is really beautiful."

Diego was surprised. It was the first time his father praised his artistic work.

Alejandro, for his part, was pleased with himself. He had purposely brought up Diego's talents in Victoria's presence of course, and his allusion to the rose garden wasn't anodyne: women loved flowers, and it was always helping setting a mood appropriate to romance... Suddenly, the image of Araceli's garden formed in his mind, but he pushed it away: better leave the past where it was...

"Yes, your drawings are very beautiful, Diego," Leonor told him shyly. "Would you... could you... make one for me? Please..."

Diego was surprised but very pleased to be at the receiving end of a rare compliment, and he grinned at her.

"Of course I will, Leonor," he answered gently. "What would you want me to draw?"

"Err..." she said, thinking hard, scrunching her nose with the effort. "Oh, I know! I'd like a portrait of Papá! Could you do that?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Great! That way I will have him always with me," Leonor said, grinning from ear to ear, "and I'll be able to see him as much as I want even when he's not in San Diego!"

 _Oh my God!_ Araceli thought. She knew her little girl missed her father and regretted she couldn't see him more often, but it was one thing to know it and another one to hear it expressed that way. She felt bad for never having thought of asking a portrait of him for Leonor's bedroom.

Alejandro wasn't feeling better about it either. _He_ felt really bad for not being able to be more present in his daughter's life, and he blamed himself for it.

Diego felt bad toward her, because _he_ could see their father every day.

Victoria, as for her, was feeling very awkward and very out of place in this family matter.

And Concepcion, as a servant, was used to witness personal moments and not react to them.

But Leonor was totally oblivious to what her spontaneous comment had triggered. She was going to have a nice portrait of her papá made by her big brother who, all things considered, wasn't a giant bogeyman. Just a giant man. Who looked a bit like her.

And she now had a funny-looking hair cut. It tickled her neck. And no more tangled-up hair until some time!


	34. Ch 34 - Blind man's bluff

"Uh... err... Paco?" Leonor's childish voice suggested hesitantly. Standing in the courtyard at the front of her father's hacienda, she was blindfolded and with her hands only she was trying to recognise who was in front of her.

"Nooo!" a concert of voices and giggles answered her. The circle of people surrounding her turned again and then stopped again. Around her were Paco, a nine years-old Indian indenture servant working for the Séguras and who had initially come to the de la Vegas to deliver an invitation from his patrons Don Virgilio and Doña Juana; Rosita, the eleven years-old daughter of one of the de la Vegas' tenants who had just brought eggs and milk from her parent's farm; her younger brother Jacinto; Felipe, who was happy not to be the youngest one around for once; and finally Concepcion and Araceli.

All this merry lot was joyfully playing blind's man buff, and the adults weren't the last to laugh and enjoy themselves, under the apparent pretext of entertaining the children of course.

"Mamá!" the little girl now said, easily recognising her mother's figure, her features – and her dress, probably.

So now it was Araceli's turn to be put at the centre of the circle and to be blindfolded with Concepcion's dark brown scarf. The round dance started again and when it stopped, Felipe noticed Diego come out from the hacienda, probably wondering what the merry laughs outside were about.

He made a sign to the others to tell them not to say a thing and silently went to Diego, repeated his sign to him, took him by the elbow and dragged him to the circle, just in front of a still blindfolded Araceli.

Leonor and Jacinto hardly stifled a giggle, but otherwise all the others remained silent, waiting for Señora Valdès's confusion.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria had nearly reached the de la Vega hacienda when she saw, away in the distance, a group of people in the front courtyard, with Don Diego standing tall in the middle of it.

But... but... What did _that woman_ think she was doing, _groping_ him like that? Feeling his chest, and his shoulders, and now his neck and lower face...!

She got closer. Blind man's buff? _Pshaw_ , what a good and convenient excuse!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Araceli touched and felt what – or rather _who_ – was in front of her, and soon excluded the children from the list. Which left only the deaf-mute servant and Concepcion on her list.

No, not Concepcion: definitely _not_ a feminine figure...

She frowned under the blindfold, but not for long: it was soon replaced with a sly little lopsided smile:

"Ooh!" she said as her hands were creeping up to his neck, "there's only so many people that tall around here, isn't there?" She now had her hands cupping his jaw and cheeks. "I think I don't even need to let my fingers go to the upper half of your face or to your hair to know who I'm currently dealing with... What do you think, _Don Diego_?"

A thunder of laughs and claps erupted and Araceli removed the scarf from her eyes.

"Bravo Mamá!" Leonor exclaimed, delighted. "She unmasked you, Diego!" she then told her big brother. "Now you must play! Your turn!"

"But I hadn't come here to play! I was just–" he tried to protest.

"No no, that's the rule Don Diego," Jacinto shyly told him. "You've been identified, you must put the blindfold on and try to recognise someone!"

"Jacinto, leave Don Diego alone if he doesn't want to play..." his older sister berated him.

"Oh please, Diego..." Leonor begged him.

"Yes, please Don Diego..." Paco echoed timidly.

Diego couldn't resist three pairs of childish eyes begging him and nodded, allowing Araceli to put the dark scarf over his eyes and tie it behind his head.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

 _Really,_ Victoria humphed inwardly, did that woman have to press herself that much against him just to tie this scarf! Couldn't she just ask him to turn round to make it easier for her?

Victoria had arrived at the gates and was watching the scene when Felipe spotted her out of the corner of his eye. Again, he signed to everyone – well, to everyone _who could see_ – not to say anything and he went to the newcomer. With an impish grin, he took her hand and led her in the circle, pushing her right in front of Diego.

Victoria held her breath, sure that he would mistake her either for Señora Valdès or for her maid. He advanced to her with his arms held out forward and she raised her eyes to his face.

Just like earlier, she felt something strange at seeing it partially hidden, with his eyes and part of his cheeks and of his forehead concealed behind the dark material of a scarf. By contrast, it enhanced his lower face, his manly jaw, his nicely trimmed moustache... and his lovely dimples. And again this sight tickled something in her mind, without her being able to know what exactly: something which felt familiar to her, _pleasant_ even, but she confusedly felt that she didn't directly relate it with Don Diego...

Meanwhile, Diego had started touching the outline of her arms and waist and shoulders, and when his palms brushed the soft mounds on her chest he took a sharp breath in and a sudden step back, realising not only that he had a grown woman in front of him but also that he accidentally touched her breasts. Awkward at the idea that he involuntarily copped a feel of his father's... whatever, or of her very respectable middle-aged maid, he hesitantly took a step forward and raised his hands to the woman's face. He felt the caress of wavy half-long hair free of any bun or ribbon or clip or hairpin. Oh? His thumbs lightly stroke round cheeks and then went down her face in featherlike touches to her jaw and lips.

It felt... surprisingly _nice_. Victoria was starting to really enjoy these light touches of his and regretted to feel it stop when he withdrew his hands with a bright smile on his face and a delighted expression on his face. Delighted, but also amused and even rather pleased with himself, she thought.

"Victoria!" he exclaimed to her utmost surprise, "welcome here!"

Victoria was stunned at his recognition of her, since he didn't even see her arrive at the hacienda. Around them, everyone was clapping and giggling, either amused or appreciative at Don Diego's unsuspected skill. Felipe, particularly, was sporting a facetious grin on his face and he too looked really pleased with himself. Even more than Diego did.

The latter, for his part, had quickly removed his blindfold and was now greeting Victoria more properly and more accordingly with social unwritten rules.

"Come, please," Diego told her, inviting her to get inside with a gesture of his arm, "Father will be delighted to have you here. As we all are, of course!"

And as he followed her through the threshold, he quickly glanced at Felipe out of the corner of his eye trying to look stern, but happy as he was for Victoria's presence, he failed lamentably at scolding the young man for the trick he had just played on him.

Felipe, as for him, plastered the most innocent expression he could muster on his face – and Lord knows he was good at pretending! – so much that Diego suddenly doubted it was his young friend's doing. But then Felipe winked at him and sent him a lopsided smile, and Diego knew: the young man was the most mischievous friend in the world; and he too was as sly as a fox!


	35. Ch 35 - Matchmaking and recollecting

Alejandro was content with himself: dinner had been a pleasant small success, with Victoria idly chatting with Diego all through the meal. His only regret was that he hadn't been able to seat her either right in front of his son or beside him: the place of honour, at the right of the one he occupied as the host at the head of the table, had been granted to Araceli, in view of her age over the younger woman's. Then the second guest, Victoria, had been offered the second place of honour at the left of Alejandro's seat. Then came Diego's place, on the right side again, hence the fact that he sat beside Araceli.

When Alejandro gallantly – and sincerely – commented that he was the luckiest man in Los Angeles since he was sitting between the two most charming ladies he knew, Araceli answered in kind that she was the luckiest woman around, since she was sitting between the two most delightsome and handsome caballeros of Los Angeles. She said this with a graceful nod to himself – _no, old fool, don't let it go to your head: she's just being polite_ – and one to Diego, and Alejandro seemed to notice a very slight frown on Victoria's lovely face. Was it some hint of annoyance, of _envy?_ Or was it just wishful thinking from his part?

When the time came for Victoria to go home, Araceli said she hadn't noticed that it was this late and announced she was going to kiss her daughter good night in her bed. She bid the innkeeper goodbye and took her leave from her. Alejandro pretended he would have liked to escort Victoria back himself, but he used as an excuse the fact that his duty as the host was to keep Araceli company.

"But I'm sure Diego will be a good replacement for me in escorting you back, my dear. Won't you, Diego?"

"Oh Don Alejandro," she said, "don't worry, I know my way; I don't want to bother you and I don't need either of you to–"

"Nonsense, my dear!" Alejandro protested. "I know you're very capable, but it's now dark and I'm a caballero, I wouldn't leave a lady alone on the road at night... Please, humour an uptight and outdated old man like me..."

"Now _you_ are talking nonsense, Don Alejandro..." she said, laughing.

"Diego, son, I know it's late and you certainly want to go to bed, but will you please stand in for me with Victoria? Or, well, if you're really too tired, I can still ask Felipe of course..." Alejandro dryly deadpanned, inwardly laughing and secretly enjoying what he was putting his son through.

If it hadn't been so personal for Diego, the mischievous father thought, he would have really liked to share this with Araceli: it would have amused her to no end... and he loved making her laugh!

"Oh, no Father, don't bother Felipe with this," Diego said, managing to sound really detached, much to Alejandro's concealed admiration. "It will be my pleasure to escort you back to the pueblo, Señorita," he politely told Victoria, playfully bowing before her.

 _A pleasure, uh? You bet, I'm sure it will,_ Alejandro remarked inwardly.

Standing in the stables where he had accompanied Diego while idly stroking Dulcinea's back, he now was looking at their retreating backs, pleased with his scheme. _I've been working for you here, son; now just don't ruin your chances by telling her something stupid!_

Then his thoughts shifted to Araceli; she was probably back from Leonor's bedroom by now...

Strange, everything seemed to be reminding him of her lately; even the stables, even his mount. Patting the animal's neck, he remembered...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Alejandro was reading the letter he had just received from Diego: he still seemed to be thrilled by Madrid, found Sir Edmund to be an exceptional mentor, was excited with learning new things and seemed elated to have access to so many academic publications. And he didn't say a word about any young señorita he would have met there: Alejandro didn't know whether to feel relieved by the absence of this kind of detail, or worried by his silence on that matter... You never know with young men his age, men on the outside but mainly still boys inside: a smile, a look, a mere gesture from a young woman they've come across only once can set their heart aflutter, and make them fancy themselves in love... Or they could also have a tendency to mistake lust for love..._

_While Alejandro was still engrossed in his son's letter he felt a timid pat on his arm. He raised his head and turned it to the side: Felipe was trying to get his attention. The child took his elbow and pulled on it in an attempt to drag him to the entrance door._

_"What is it, Felipe?"_

_The boy insisted, pointing to his own eyes with two fingers and then gesturing outside to the front courtyard._

_"Something I must see outside?"_

_Felipe nodded happily._

_Alejandro then stood up and followed the child. And indeed, there was something to be seen: tied to the gate was the magnificent mare he had wanted to buy from Señor Alvarez and then tried to purchase from Doña Araceli only two weeks earlier._

_Then Felipe handed him a folded sheet of paper with his full name written on it. Alejandro took it. Soft, smooth, thick, refined ivory paper. He unfolded it and looked inside; on the page were displayed four concise lines of a handwriting which was vaguely familiar to him:_

"All things considered, you're a far better horseman  
than I will ever be. Take good care of her.

 _Post-Scriptum:_ Now, _I_ want her first foal.  
Choose the sire like you would have for yourself."

_No signature, but there was no need for it._

_She didn't even tell him the mare's name; he'd have to choose one. One suitable to such a beauty, at least in his eyes..._

_And he suddenly remembered her sire's name: Toboso._

Toboso, _like the Spanish small town of El Toboso, where Cervantes made his Don Quijote come from... A coincidence which Alejandro quite liked!_

_Then... Of course! How obvious!_

Dulcinea... _'Dulcinea del Toboso', Dulcinea of Toboso..._

_"Come here, Dulcinea," he murmured, untying her bridle and patting her neck affectionately. "I'll take good care of you, beautiful."_


	36. Ch 36 - The fox and the flock

_Really, Zorro should stop riding to the pueblo in broad daylight!_ Diego sighed as he sought refuge in the church, masked and clad in black from head to toe, discreetly entering the sacred building through a side door. He had come very close to being seen on the cuartel's roof, and there had been too many soldiers around to take the risk to draw attention to himself by whistling for Tornado. Instead he had decided to let himself slide along the wall and discreetly go to his horse's hiding place.

Except that he almost bumped into alcalde de Soto and a group of lancers near the mission's wall, and Zorro just had time to enter the church before being spotted. Couldn't these damned soldiers ever take a nap in the hottest hours of the day, just like everyone?

He really should have waited for the night before coming here as Zorro, he chided himself.

Granted it was siesta time and the activity was kept at minimum level in town, but still. In fact, he should have carried out this mission last night. Except that he had been far too tired for this: after two nights with very little sleep, one day spent running after kidnappers and another one spent trying to deal with his family's new situation, he had really felt too exhausted when he came back from escorting Victoria home the night before.

He thought again about this ride side by side with Victoria: she had seemed... different. At first she did a lot of talking about Leonor, about how he had been good with her, then about how good he seemed to be with children in general. Next thing he knew, she was asking him about Señora Valdès, about what he was thinking of her, about whether he liked her...

He hadn't wanted to appear like some petty spoiled brat or defensive snotty kid jealously guarding his father's attention, so he answered that yes, he liked her very much. But it didn't seem to convince her of his benevolence toward this woman, because just after that she frowned and kept quiet. He then hardly managed to get five words out of her mouth until they reached the pueblo.

Then, just as they were on the tavern's doorstep, she commented that all this probably made him look forward to starting his own family.

He didn't know what to reply: how could he tell her that it only depended on her?

 _Well, no,_ he reflected. It also depended on the local situation. How could he dream of having a family depend on him as long as he still had a bounty on his head?

He could only provide an awkward smile by way of answer. Then he remembered that her question was strictly about what he was _looking forward to_ , what he _wanted_ , not what he thought immediately possible...

"Yes I'd like it... just like everyone, I guess. But I'm sure the happiest person with that would be my father!" he said with a large but slightly strained smile.

For a split second, Victoria looked as though she was about to tell him something but then she simply opened her door, thanking him for the ride home.

"That was my pleasure, Victoria" he replied.

She fully turned to him, hesitating for one or two seconds. Again she looked as if she wanted to add something but she apparently changed her mind at the last minute.

"Well... good night Don Diego..." she said.

"Good night Victoria," he told her, waiting for her to go inside and close her door before turning his back to her and heading home.

She entered and seemed reluctant to shut the door totally, still looking at him as she held the knob in her hand and very slowly closing the wooden panel, with her eyes never leaving his. Would she finally tell him what was so obviously on her mind?

"Err... Will you come to the tavern tomorrow, Don Diego?" she finally asked.

 _Why this question?_ he wondered.

"Uh... probably, yes..."

"Alright, see you tomorrow, then..." she murmured, not looking him in the eyes.

 _Is she going to add anything else?_ he wondered again.

No. She finally closed the door and after five seconds of stupidly staring at it, he went back to his horse and rode back home.

He had initially planned for Zorro to pay a courtesy call to this Señor Pablo Ortega in his cell and 'persuasively' ask him the names of his accomplices. He had been rather reluctant to give them to the alcalde, apparently partly out of loyalty and partly for fear of retribution.

But when coming back from escorting Victoria he arrived within sight of the hacienda, he knew that his nearly sleepless previous two nights were finally catching up with him and he felt really tired. And he also knew that a tired Zorro was a Zorro in danger, a Zorro with lessened attention, a Zorro who could make mistakes with dire consequences for himself, and a Zorro who might be careless.

So he decided to postpone his mission to later, siesta time for instance. But before he went to bed, he couldn't resist the pull that made him need to verify that his father was quietly resting in his bed, his _own_ bed, and above all, _alone_. He silently led his mount to the broken window and peeked a glance through it, relieved at the silence reigning inside the bedroom. Thanks to the moonlight he could make out the lying form resting under the sheets. _One_ form.

Sighing his relief, he had then headed to the stables. A few minutes later he was in his own bedroom, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

At siesta time, the church was generally empty, but not always. That's why as soon as Zorro entered it he prudently flattened himself against the wall, moving sideways, in some sort of crab-like walk, until he reached the side of a wooden confessional. He hid behind its front panel and very slightly leaned forward to discreetly peek at the inside of the church: if anyone was there, he'd better hide from them, in case this person wasn't exactly Zorro's friend. He knew he could always count on Padre Benitez's assistance, but even in this case, he'd rather not involve him in Zorro's problems if not absolutely necessary.

In a side chapel dedicated to San Francisco de Asís, a soldier was kneeling and praying. Then the man stood and crossed the transept. Zorro made the most of the two seconds it took him to stop and kneel before the altar on his way to quickly slip _into_ the confessional in order not to be seen. On the priest side of it of course, where a full wooden door could conceal him entirely and not on the parishioner's side, with just a curtain that wouldn't hide the lower part of his body: there, his boots, his black trousers and his sword would be visible from the outside!

It was the right move to do, since the soldier then went to the poor box just beside it and dropped several coins in it, before going to another side chapel dedicated to San José, where the man would have a full view of the confessional if he decided to raise his head.

 _Better safe than sorry,_ Zorro thought: he'd stay in his current hiding place. Of course the soldier had left his sword at the door, but still... And anyway, Zorro really didn't feel alright with the idea of fighting within God's house.

Diego prayed a short apology to the Lord for entering His sacred house fully armed, but sometimes circumstances commanded, right?

He heard someone else enter the church and grunted inwardly: just his luck! Now he'd just have to wait until these people leave and go back to their daily duties. Let's just hope they won't stay here until the end of siesta time, or it will then be much harder for Zorro to sneak out unnoticed, with the usual activity resuming in the pueblo and everyone outside. He really, _really_ should stop coming to the pueblo in broad daylight! Let's just hope that Tornado would very quickly show up at his master's call...

For lack of anything better to do, he repeated in his mind the three names that Ortega had rather reluctantly finally let out. He'd have to ask Señora Valdès whether these were familiar to her, whether she knew them...

Or perhaps his father did know them...? He'd have to ask him too.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

_Wh– what?!_

Oh no! There was someone in the confessional, on the other side of the grid! And this someone – a woman, according to the voice– was obviously mistaking him for the padre.

Really, could this afternoon go any worse?


	37. Ch 37 - A revelation

"It's been... I don't know exactly... roughly a month since my last confession."

Zorro didn't dare say anything, busy as he was watching the soldier pray in the middle of the church. When will the man finally decide he had prayed enough and go back to the cuartel, or the tavern, or wherever he wanted as long as it wasn't on Zorro's way!

"Father, I have hesitated all night long and all morning long before coming to you... but... it weighs on me more and more... and I... I... I don't know what is the rightest thing to do between protecting those I love and whom I feel responsible for on the one hand, and... and... being honest with the people whom I care for on the other hand..."

These words would have found a painful echo in Diego if he had been paying attention to them, but Zorro was only half-listening, vaguely and absent-mindedly hearing what the contrite parishioner was telling him – or rather, telling _the padre_. He had other problems on his mind than the existential issues of his fellow sinners. And in addition to that, he felt rather bad at hearing a confession that was meant to be heard by a priest and a priest _only_. Which he wasn't.

For God's sake, when would this damned soldier go away?! _Oops, sorry my Lord for the swearword in Your holy house._

"Father, I... For years now I've been living a lie..."

 _Well,_ Diego thought wryly, _tell_ me _about it!_

Zorro murmured to disguise his voice, distractedly so as he was still looking outside the confessional at the nave:

"Hmm? Really? Lie?"

Ah, good, the man was finally rising from his previous kneeling position... _Oh, no!_ now he was heading to the statue of Nuestra Señora and lighting a candle! Won't he ever leave?!

"Yes, Padre. Almost a decade of conscious lie..."

Suddenly, it downed on Diego that he knew this voice. Well of course he did! There were only so many people in Los Angeles and its surroundings...

But this voice sounded disturbingly familiar, even though he associated it only with very recent memories... Curious against his better judgement, he leaned to the grid until his nose touched it and he looked through the holes in the lattice.

 _Oh, Dios!_ It was dark, but despite this he clearly and unmistakably recognised Doña Araceli!

Well, that changed Zorro's priorities slightly. Or rather _Diego's_ priorities? The previous urgency to leave this church was suddenly pushed to the background of his mind, as he became really curious to know what moral lapse she could have to confess. Except of course the one he already knew about the night she spent with his father. He really could do without hearing _that_!

But... didn't she just admit something about lying? For years? Lying about _what_ , exactly?

He turned his full attention to her:

"I'm all ears, daughter," he murmured. "Tell me what's burdening your soul..."

"Well," she replied, "first, I must confess having been overcome with anger and hatred toward fellow human beings, Father..."

She went silent but before his lack of response she prompted him:

"Padre?"

"Si, si si, I'm listening to you. Go on..."

"I can't... I know it's wrong, but I can't help myself... When I think of these men who took my little girl... I feel so much anger inside me! I tell myself over and over that it's not worthy of a good Christian to feel this, that it keeps me away from God, diverts me from Him, but I can't... And when I think of this man, of Pablo... I feel so betrayed that I'm afraid I feel _hatred_ in my heart. I know this feeling leads me away from the Lord's path, Padre, but I don't know how to stop it from gnawing at me..."

Diego didn't know what to tell her: he had wanted her to tell him about this lie she had alluded to at first, but now she was confessing the very human and even rather understandable wrong feelings the recent ordeal had triggered in her.

"Padre?"

"Si?"

"I don't want to be like that, I don't want my heart and soul to be taken over by Evil. And I thought... I thought... I thought that perhaps... perhaps it was because of the lie I've been living all these years... Perhaps it weakened my soul and made it an easier target for... for anger and hatred, for instance. Because even though I haven't truly lied by commission, by word, for years, I sort of repeat the lie by omission everyday..."

"And what exactly are you talking about, Seño– _daughter_? In order to understand your trouble and tell you whether it is what perverts your soul and keeps it away from our Father, I'm afraid I need some more detailed confession..."

She sighed.

"Si," she admitted. "Si, that's only fair..." She sighed again. "Padre..." Her voiced dropped a tone lower, and was now barely above a whisper. "Padre, I..." She paused. "I... I... I'm not widowed," she finally confessed. Another pause. "I'm still married. My husband is alive."

Diego wasn't expecting _that_. All he could do then was to stupidly stutter in a breathy voice:

"You... y-you... y-you're married? _Still_ married?"

"Till death do us part, as you of all people very well know the saying... Until it _truly_ do us part..."

The only reply she got from beyond the grid was a long silence.

"Padre...?"

"But WHY?" Zorro said a bit too loud. "Why have you said– why do you pretend that your husband is dead if he isn't?"

"Because that's what I had been told at first! Simply that!" she answered immediately. "They told me... his family... We had already been officially separated for two years then – my husband Pascual and I, I mean – and we hadn't kept in touch. Then one day I received a letter from his family... it said that he had just been ran over and trampled by his own prize bull and that he died three days later. When I arrived in San Juan Capistrano for the funerals, they didn't let me see the body, they told me he was too... you know..."

She paused.

"They told me it was too disturbing a sight, especially for women, and that it's not the image he wanted people to remember of him... He was the most beautiful man in the world, you know..."

"And...?" Zorro asked.

She sighed once more.

"And one or two years later," she went on, "I learned that it had all been an act, that he was still alive, that we had in fact buried a coffin filled with earth. That when he had been injured he survived but used this to avoid retribution from the family and the whole tribe of the Indian woman he had been living with for some months then. My in-laws finally told me that he loved her and wanted to live with her, but that what remained of her tribe disagreed of her leaving them to live with a Spaniard, to live _like_ a Spaniard, and to have mixed-blood children; and apparently they had tried to kill him for that. _Twice_... Now the two of them are living somewhere else, either north or south, I don't know, under false identities and pretending to be married... I don't resent him for the lie, it's ancient history now, but unless he's dead by now, which his family wouldn't have failed to tell me now that they know that I know, errm... well... I'm still married before God if not before the law, Padre."

This confession left Zorro speechless.

Then once he had absorbed this unexpected revelation, the first thought that came to his mind was that at least it explained her stubborn refusal of marriage... Perhaps he should inform his father of that fact, to soften the blow it must have been to his pride at the time...

"Does..." he started, hesitant to go further, "does Don Alejandro know this...?"

"No..." she answered in a barely audible hoarse breath. "No... of course not. He would have never... He's a very decent man, he would have never... I mean... technically, it would have been adultery! He would never knowingly engage in such a relationship!"

 _Of course he wouldn't!_ But in Diego's eyes, technically it _was_ indeed very much adultery, at least on her part.

"But _you_ knew!" he said a little too heatedly. "You could have told him..." he went on a bit more quietly.

He heard her deeply breath in and then out.

"Yes I could have..." she admitted. "Except that I couldn't... You're the only person I've told this in... well, you're the only person I've ever told this. Even my own family doesn't know."

"You mean they too believe you're widowed?" he asked, stunned.

"Yes," she simply answered in a contrite voice. "Mind you, at least if they knew, my father and my brother wouldn't pester me at least twice a year with the idea of remarriage... But I couldn't tell anyone: I've only been entrusted with a secret that's not mine. The biggest secret here is not that I'm still married, it's that Pascual is still alive. It's a dangerous secret that could cost him his life, for real this time, if it reached his enemies' ears."

Yes of course, she had a point.

"Well," Diego told her rather curtly, "this would fix your situation, after all..."

She gasped, horrified.

"Padre!" she said, shocked. "I swear... I swear before God that I have never, ever had such a thought!"

"Don't invoke the name of the Lord to swear, daughter!" Zorro reminded her, acting his part as the priest.

"Si, excuse me Padre. But the thing is, first I said this not knowing it was a lie, then I repeated it because I couldn't just say that I thought it was true but in fact it wasn't, and because I couldn't betray Pascual's secret and jeopardise his safety, and then because technically I was living like a widow anyway and I admit it suited me; and next, ever since my daughter's birth... well..."

"Well _what_?" Zorro asked a bit on edge, starting to be slightly annoyed.

"Well, it's obvious, no?"

" _Obvious_?" Not to Diego, it seemed. "What does all this have to do with your daughter?" he asked, totally at a loss.

"Well, Padre, if people knew that I'm not widowed, she would be not only a bastard child in their eyes, as they currently already see her... but... but it would even make her an _adulterine_ child!"

 _Oh! oh... oh... ow..._ Diego suddenly understood her point. Yes, things were certainly not smooth everyday for people born out of wedlock, but in the public's opinion being born of adultery was even a large cut below...

"I don't want that for Leonor, Padre. She is the most important person in my life, and I am responsible for her. My responsibility is to protect her the best I can."

"Si," Diego murmured, "si, of course."

She was right, he thought. If people knew that Leonor was adulterine... yes, it would be far worse for her than 'just' being illegitimate.

Doña Araceli went on:

"And there's also... There's Alejandro... I mean _Don_ Alejandro... I suppose you know how he is, Padre... so right and proper... so by-the-book... _formal_ even, sometimes... If he suddenly knew that... that I was... still married when we... you know..."

Yes, Diego knew, thank you very much; and he hadn't wanted to be reminded of _it_.

"...when he had an affair with you, you mean?" he completed soberly. "Well," he then snapped a bit curtly, "perhaps you should have thought about it at that time, don't you think? If you had truly cared about his personal preventions in that matter back then, you wouldn't have to spare him this uncomfortable knowledge now!"

"What's done is done, Padre! I'm precisely here to confess my sins," she replied in the same tone of voice, "not to undo them! No one can do that!"

Diego sighed.

"You're right, sorry," he answered her. "So, you were telling me about your guilt toward Don Alejandro..."

"...Guilt..." she answered, "...yes... and no..." She paused. "I know I shouldn't have lied to him... should have told him the truth... But on the other hand, if I had, then... then Leonor... you know... she wouldn't exist... I wouldn't have had my daughter..."

The more she was opening to him – _no! to the padre!_ – and the more he was understanding her complicated point of view.

"I know I owed him the truth at the time, I know I owe it to him now, but... he would inevitably feel bad about it, even though he is not guilty of anything, he didn't commit adultery since he thought I was widowed. I don't want him to feel bad."

"And you're afraid of him resenting you, admit it!" Diego retorted.

In a barely audible voice, she answered:

"Si Padre."

Silence.

"I don't..." she started, before pausing again. "I don't want to lose his esteem and his affection. His friendship is important to me, we've come to an agreement as parents of a same child when we broke up all these years ago, and we managed to make it work. We built a strong friendship, a deep understanding over the years and... he now is part of my life, you know. And for Leonor, it's better that her parents don't grow cold with each other and turn to being on bad terms."

"Again, you're looking for excuses..." Diego said.

"Perhaps... but not only. I like Alejandro, I don't want to hurt him. What good would it truly do to him by now to know that?"

"Well... I suppose that it depends..." Diego suggested.

"Depends on what, Padre?"

He didn't answer immediately. And then he did, talking slowly and clearly, with a question of his own:

"Señora, what are your intentions toward Don Alejandro de la Vega?"


	38. Ch 38 - Intentions and designs

_'What are your intentions toward Don Alejandro...?'_

After a short silence came her surprised answer to the 'padre':

"Well... none!" she said a bit puzzled. "I don't have any particular intention!"

"Really?" Zorro asked from beyond the grid of the confessional.

"Well, except for my daughter to come here from time to time now that things are out in the open, so that she could spend more time with him, and get to know her brother too. But I'm not sure Don Diego wants her to, I'm not sure how he'd react to the idea of having her stay a fortnight or so at their hacienda every three months... And I don't want any dissent, any strain between Alejandro and his son because of her. Because of _me_..."

"Don't you think you're seeing Don Diego in a rather too dim view? Don't you think he's already made efforts? Don't you think they have already started to warm to each other?" he asked, pleading his own case.

"Si... si... But making do with her presence right now and just once is one thing, while having her regularly at home and having to share his father with her on a recurrent basis is a different matter altogether. So I don't know... I'm not sure, Padre."

"Give him some credit," he replied. "So," he went on, "you don't have designs on Don Alejandro?"

"I've not come here to get him to marry me, if that's what you think, Padre. I've always fully intended to go back to San Diego after introducing Leonor to her brother. And may I remind you, Padre, that _you_ were the one who went to seek me there and had to convince me to come to Los Angeles immediately at Alejandro's... _summon_. I, for my part, was perfectly happy with things as they were, I wasn't asking for anything..."

"And Don Alejandro, in all this?"

If Zorro/Diego could have seen through the grid, he would have seen a sweet smile graze Araceli's lips.

"Alejandro..." she said pensively, "I owe him so much! I owe him my daughter. I owe him the most important person in my life." She paused. "He gave me a child, made me a mother. You can't imagine what it is for me. What it means. And thus, what _he_ means for me. Forever he will be my daughter's father, whatever happens. And in fact, even after we broke up, even after things ended between us, he remained my child's father."

A _father_... _Parenthood_... Señora Valdès's words sent him back a few hours earlier, to Victoria's question: _all this must make you look forward to starting your own family, no?_

Being a father... Having a child... someone to love, to raise, to be responsible for, to teach – to tell off and be frustrated with too, sometimes...

And also someone to kiss and cuddle, too, _a lot_ , even though it wasn't very manly... Anyway, it was already common knowledge that Don Diego de la Vega _wasn't_ very manly, so... Why not making the most of his reputation, if at least something nice could come out of it!

He sighed dreamily. _A child..._ Becoming a father... But he'd better stop daydreaming about that, as things were it would probably never be. God just hadn't that in store for him, unfortunately.

"I also owe Alejandro wonderful memories..." Doña Araceli went on. "And we have... an understanding, a bond together, through Leonor, and through the fact that we have managed to get along so well after breaking up. Through the fact that despite the distance, he carried on his visits, doing his best to be here for her," she explained. "For us," she added. "All this has somehow bound us together, in a strange and unusual way."

 _Humph, this is all well and good, but you conveniently don't mention what happened two nights ago,_ Diego thought.

"Señ– Daughter, you'll understand that I have trouble believing you, considering what you are still keeping quiet about... regarding Don Alejandro and yourself, on a much more recent matter..."

 _Ow!_ Diego could have kicked himself, he really should have bitten his tongue, but it was too late: how could anyone know about their... rekindling of their earlier passion?

"Oh..." Araceli said, a bit down, "he has confessed to you..."

 _Phew_ , Diego thought, relieved that his slip went unnoticed thanks to this plausible explanation.

"You very well know that a priest can't break the seal of confession..." Diego told her, so as to neither confirm nor deny her supposition, and thus avoiding lying, especially in this place. He wasn't feeling totally at ease with deceiving her by impersonating a priest. Even though he hadn't intended to pass himself off as the padre and delude her at first, he didn't disabuse her either... _Lie by omission,_ he thought. It evened the score with her, he justified himself in his own eyes...

"I hope you haven't been too hard on him with his penance, Padre," Araceli suddenly said, "because in fact it was all my fault. Even though I'm sure he didn't tell you so, did he? Always the gentleman..."

She paused a bit, and then she added:

"I wasn't thinking straight, he was right about that. I should have listened to him. Don't think too ill of him, Padre, I'm the one who sought him, who went to his bedroom." Another pause. "I wasn't thinking straight, I wasn't thinking about the day after, or even about the hour after... I was distressed, I know we shouldn't have, not just one night like that, I know I should have listened to him. But I... was unable to see reason... couldn't even listen to my own good sense, to wisdom. I just... I don't know... acted on instinct?"

With some relief, Diego couldn't help but note that she was doing her best to exonerate his father from any blame. At least he had to give her credit for that. It made him feel some relief as to her honest caring for his father.

 _Relief_ , really? Or rather some hint of... _worry?_ It prompted his next question:

"Do you still... have feelings for Don Alejandro?" he couldn't help but ask her a bit apprehensively. And much reluctantly.

Silence.

"Señ– Daughter?"

Silence again.

"I... I..." Araceli started, then paused. "It... These past few days... got me to realise..."

She paused again.

"I... I realised I'm still attracted to him," she finally admitted in a barely audible murmur.

Diego wasn't sure whether it answered his question, but he knew that something in him didn't quite like this answer.

She was _attracted_ to him. But wasn't it rather her very personal way of saying, or rather of _not_ saying, that she still had feelings for him? That she _loved_ him? That she hoped to resume things with him, to pick up where they left off, even though she didn't intent to have him marry her?

But it hadn't been a _love_ story between them, right? Just a... well, he couldn't find any polished and refined way to phrase it, but the idea was clear enough in his mind... And it had rather been _that_ than a true love story, hadn't it?

"And you maintain that you have no intention whatsoever toward Don Alejandro?" Diego asked, suddenly doubting her word, in light of her last admission.

"As I told you, Padre. I thought I had been clear enough when you came to San Diego a few days ago, and anyway now that I'm here I can see that... well... he..."

She didn't end her sentence, and Diego wondered what she meant.

"He...?" he prompted her.

"Well, Padre, do you... don't you... didn't he..." she mumbled.

"What?" Diego asked impatiently.

"...Doesn't he already have someone else on his mind?"

"WHAT!?" Diego shouted far too loud. "What do you mean?" he went on in a considerably lower voice. "Who...?"

Did his father start an affair here in Los Angeles without him noticing it? Now Diego wasn't sure of anything anymore... He searched his mind for some elderly lady coming to the hacienda more than before lately, or for his father paying more courtesy calls than before, but truth be told, since Gilberto Risendo's 'visit' and subsequent death, his father's social life had been kept rather low.

"Well..." Araceli answered in a rather subdued voice, "isn't he... _interested_... in the tavern owner?"

_What?_

Diego had a hard time stopping himself from chuckling, choking and even downright laughing, ludicrous and funny as this idea was.

Victoria...? His father...? Really, all Los Angelinos knew that, years ago, Don Alejandro had promised his friend Alfonso Escalante to watch over his children, and that he was subsequently seeing her as some godchild of his. Or a niece. That his affectionate care for her was nothing else than benevolence and benign friendship for his old friend's orphaned daughter. Much much _younger_ daughter.

Diego had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh. Really! Preposterous!

He'd have to tell this to Victoria, it would amuse her to no end.

Except that no, he couldn't. He wasn't supposed to have heard this confession, was he?

Then Diego remembered that Señora Valdès was not from Los Angeles and thus didn't know anything about the ties between Alejandro de la Vega and the late Señor Escalante – may his blessed soul rest in peace. He managed to get serious enough to ask Doña Araceli in a detached tone of voice:

"Señorita Escalante, you mean?"

"Yes. He... Yesterday at the tavern he expressed his appreciation of her and of her conversation, and he invited her for dinner at the hacienda. He told her that he missed her company and that he wants her to get along with Leonor, saying it was important to him."

"Hmm," Diego simply said, thinking hard of what he was going to tell her next.

"He complimented her at dinner, too," she went on, "and... and he would have really wanted to gallantly and courteously escort her home afterward, if not for his duty keeping him at the hacienda with me, forcing him to keep me company."

_Oh, she heard that?_

Diego thought that she had already been at Leonor's bedside when his father had asked him to escort Victoria back to the pueblo. But she apparently lingered a bit behind the door. And eavesdropped a bit, too. Unnoticed. She'd make a very fine spy for Zorro!

"And even after she left, he had seemed really cheered up by this dinner, he was in a very good mood." Araceli remarked. "He... likes her, no? It seems to me that he intends to court her, doesn't he? Or perhaps it's already his way of... unofficially wooing her...?"

The cogs in Diego's brain were working full speed, and although his first reflex had been to disabuse her and deny any design of his father on Victoria – a girl who was even younger than Doña Araceli herself, this woman really wasn't thinking straight! – another more disturbing thought then came to his mind: what if this apparent lack of lucidity from her part as far as his father was concerned was the product of some... residual feelings?

Could it be _jealousy?_

Well, better kill any idea of getting him back which could be burgeoning in her mind, Diego thought. That way she would leave his father alone, and keep her claws away from him. And she even unknowingly just provided him with the best way to do so: confirming her mistaken suspicions.

"How perceptive, Señ– Daughter!" he told her, playing along. "I can't deny that Don Alejandro has a strong interest in Señorita Escalante, they have grown close over time."

 _Well,_ Diego thought inwardly, that was not a lie, was it?

"He sure likes her," he added, "and cares for her a lot."

_Not a lie either._

On the other side of the grid, Araceli failed at totally suppressing a sigh.

"Si, I see," she murmured.

"So I think the best course of action for you would be not to interfere. Forget what happened the other night and leave him be..."

"Si... si of course..." Araceli replied. "Anyway, as I told you earlier I've never intended... The past is better left where it belongs."

Diego was relieved, but he felt a slight pang of guilt at how despondent and suddenly unconvinced she sounded, though.

"Padre," she asked in a small voice, "do you give me absolution?"

_Ow..._

_Ow._

When he sort of decided to 'play along' and let her believe he was the padre, he hadn't thought of _this_ part of confession. Of the _sacrament_ of confession.

Ouch; he _wasn't_ a priest. He morally couldn't fake it, it would be sacrilegious. Not to mention that he couldn't either let her leave unabsolved when she thought she had been forgiven. He would be committing a grave sin if he did so...

He was about to tell her to come back later because he had to think about it and about her penance, when he heard another familiar voice which he recognised immediately:

"Forgive me, daughter, for having made you wait, but I'm now done with what I was doing. I'm all yours..."

_Padre Benitez!_

The real one, this time.

Then Diego saw the small wooden door hiding him be pulled open when simultaneously a totally puzzled _'W-what?'_ came out of Doña Araceli's mouth from beyond the grid.

 _Oops,_ Zorro thought, _caught!_


	39. Ch 39 - The flight of the fox

_Oops... Caught...!_

After a split second of stunned and transfixed immobility, Zorro bolted out of the confessional to sheepishly explain himself to the padre.

But at the very same moment a completely confused and dumbfounded Doña Araceli yanked the worn and threadbare velvet curtain aside, stepping out of her side of the box; and then, all hell broke loose.

When Señora Valdès saw who had been confessing her, abusing her trust and good faith, deceiving her by impersonating the padre and letting her believe she was confessing to a priest, she became outraged.

"I don't know who you are, Señor, but if you were a man you would show your face instead of hiding behind a mask, you COWARD! Take it off! TAKE IT OFF, IF YOU'RE A MAN!"

If not for Padre Benitez to hold her back, doing his best to restrain her, she would have pounced on Zorro to try to rip off his black mask while giving him a piece of her mind. Except that of course the man could certainly overpower her with one arm tied behind his back, but still; and he didn't want to wrestle with a woman or to fight inside a church.

The two days old bruise on her cheek was bluer than ever and now visible even through the layer of powdery makeup she had applied on it, and it reminded Zorro of how much of a fighter she could be if she had a good reason to be enraged; half-lioness and half-tigress.

It brought back the memory of his own bruise, the one he owed to her punch to his face, but truth be told that one was far more discreet and he fortunately had managed to hide it, using on himself some of the makeup powder he took from in his theatrical accessories. Thank God no one had seemed to notice it, or he would have had a hard time explaining this bruise to her. To his father or to Victoria, he could ever tell he had hit his head on something – a door, the mantelpiece, a wooden beam in the stables, anything – but to Doña Araceli who wasn't aware of his reputation as a hopeless klutz but knew perfectly well that the masked outlaw known as Zorro got hit in the face precisely on this same spot, it might very well seem highly suspicious. He still didn't know her, but had already noted that she wasn't a fool. Far from it!

And currently, she was absolutely outraged. And rather vocal about her opinion of him. Padre Benitez was still keeping her from jumping at his throat, but the look he settled on Zorro wasn't too affable, for once. He didn't totally side with the black outlaw this time, and Diego couldn't resent him for that; granted, he could understand the padre's point of view on what he just did...

Zorro flinched a bit under this disapproving and disappointed gaze, but he didn't have time to dwell on it: alerted by the rumpus, a few people had come inside, and looked to see where the commotion was coming from and what it was about. Among those people was the soldier Zorro precisely wanted to avoid. The man turned his back and ran to the porch of the church to grab his sword, and Padre Benitez took advantage of this short reprieve to explain to Araceli that Zorro was a friend of the people, of the oppressed, that despite being an outlaw he fought injustice, and he reminded her that Zorro was the one who saved her daughter and brought her back.

This finally convinced her to stop yelling at the masked man and to give him the benefice of the doubt, even very reluctantly so.

"I assure you Señora," the padre was insisting, "he has to get out before the soldiers arrest him, I'll explain later, but please just trust my word and let him escape! I'll explain, I swear, but for now time is of the essence..."

She had stopped struggling, so the padre released her.

"All right," she said grudgingly. Then to Zorro: "Leave, before I change my mind. I'll ease your escape, but I'm warning you: you'd better forget everything you've heard in there, you sneaky, cheating, deceitful, conniving fox!"

"Now leave, Zorro," the padre advised him, "time is short before this soldier warns his fellows..."

Then Araceli ran to the soldier who was approaching them with his sword in his hand and she all but threw herself into his arms, begging for his protection against the masked and terrifying bandit dressed in black from head to toe. In doing so she impeded his progress and clung to the man, almost hugging him, and of course preventing him from running after Zorro or even using his sword.

"Please, please Señor, help! A bandit! Here! In a consecrated house! A masked bandit! Señor, I put myself under your protection!"

The man was almost pinned to the spot – physically speaking – by Doña Araceli and he was very reluctant to roughly manhandle a woman, especially inside a church, and least of all a woman who had a... uh... _privileged relationship_ with Don Alejandro de la Vega, one of the most prominent, respected and influential men around.

"Si Señora, si, but please, let go of–"

"Oh Señor, Señor, I beg you...!" Araceli pleaded, holding him back as best and as unsuspiciously as she could.

"Si si Señora, but por favor, just let me–"

"Please, please, be careful, he has a sword! Oh, Dios mio, Dios mio...!"

While Araceli was brilliantly acting her part, the padre had discreetly led Zorro to the sacristy and opened the back door leading outside. But before he let the man go, though, he took him by the elbow and threw him a stern glance.

"Don't think this is over, Son," he warned him. "You've just committed a grave offense if you've actually done what I suspect you've done. We don't have time now, but fortunately for you, confession can be anonymous. So I'm strongly expecting you at a more convenient moment of your choice for a good and thorough admission of you sins, Son."

Diego knew an order when he heard one. Suddenly, he was eight years old again, impressed and sheepish in front of the stern glare of an authority figure scolding him after he made mischief. He could easily see that Padre Benitez wasn't happy with him, _at all_ , and he felt rather ill-at-ease, rubbing Zorro's black boots on the stony floor.

"Now, go before they catch you! May the Lord be with you."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Meanwhile, the pious soldier had finally managed to politely but firmly get rid of Doña Araceli's grip and rushed after Zorro through the side door of the church, thinking that was the exit Zorro had used to flee. That, or this lancer wasn't that eager to catch Zorro, after all. After all, the outlaw was the people's defender, and many a soldier didn't disagree of everything the man did. Or didn't agree with all the orders they had to obey. So perhaps that soldier was inwardly not too unhappy with Araceli's interference. Who knows...

Anyway, once the church was back to being the haven of peace it shouldn't have ceased to be, Araceli went to Padre Benitez:

"Who is that man, Padre?" she asked with anguish in her voice and all over her face. "Please, who is he? Where does he live? What's his name? I must... I must go and talk to him. I've told him... I must tell him–"

"He has always been hiding and protecting his identity, daughter," the padre replied, "no one has ever seen him without his mask, so that no one in Los Angeles could know who he is. I'm sorry, I can't answer your questions."

"But– but... you don't understand! I've told him... I've told him things... things that he wasn't meant to hear! Things that weren't for his ears but for yours only!"

"No daughter," he corrected her, "for _God!_ "

"Yes, yes of course, for God... but I very much doubt he's God, Padre!"

"Well, whoever he is, I'm sure he won't make any wrong use of what he's just learned about you. Especially as you just protected his escape."

"But I don't want him to make any use _at all_ of what he heard! No, in fact, I just want him to forget what he heard. To... to _unhear_ it..."

Padre Benitez looked at her: she seemed really distressed. What sin had she just admitted to Zorro which made her so fearful of a man she hadn't known of only two days earlier and whom she would probably never see or hear about ever again once she's quietly back home in San Diego?

"Well, I'm all yours now, ready to hear your confession."

"I... I... uh..." Araceli stammered.

She sighed heavily.

"Not right now, Padre," she went on. "Not twice in the same day, in the same hour. I'll come back, I swear, I'll confess, I really _want_ to... I feel the _need_ to. But not now, please Padre. Not after..."

She made a vague gesture to the confessional first, then to where Zorro escape through, and she sighed again.

"It was hard enough to say it once, so not now, Padre. Please forgive me for the delay, and for the bother..."

And with these words, she all but ran out of the church.


	40. Ch 40 - After siesta

Once safely back in his cave, Zorro quickly took off his mask and the rest of his attire to change into Diego's civilian clothes with Felipe's eager help.

The young man noted that his patron was rather reluctant to chat, answering his signed questions with barely more than monosyllables. Felipe had to ask each question to extort from Diego the results of Zorro's mission.

"Yes, I managed to get to his cell unnoticed."

"Yes, I had time to question him."

"Yes, he finally gave me the names."

Tired of having to squeeze him for answers, Felipe went to groom Tornado, pouting a bit.

After a few minutes of a heavy silence, Diego finally noticed that his curt and terse answers as well as his manifest bad will and refusal to chitchat had hurt his young friend. After all, he reflected, it wasn't Felipe's fault that Doña Araceli's surprising admissions had cast a shadow over his mood.

He sighed.

"Come on, Felipe," he told him in a mellowed voice, "siesta time has been over for some time now, let's have a drink at the tavern, we might hear things of interest for Zorro, who knows..."

That, and Diego also wanted to see Victoria.

Felipe put the brush down and nodded happily. He then made the sign he used for Araceli, obviously asking whether they should ask her if she wanted to come with them. _Great,_ Diego thought wryly, _now she's also made Felipe's conquest!_ Truth be told, now that he had been given Diego's 'permission' to like Leonor, the young man had also warmed to her mother after he noticed that their presence under this roof seemed to have a positive effect on Don Alejandro's mood and on his dealing with the aftermath of Risendo's revelations and death.

"She's already in the pueblo, I've seen her there."

_Oh yes, he had, and how!_

"But Leonor wasn't with her," he added. "Where has she been? And where is she now?"

 _First, siesta,_ Felipe answered. Then she had taken a short riding lesson with Don Alejandro, and now her father had taken her with him on Dulcinea for a ride to the pueblo.

 _Oh yes?_ Zorro hadn't come across them on his gallop back to the cave... Well, he hadn't really paid attention, and during the day he never took the most direct route, just in case...

"Alright," he told Felipe, "let's go, now."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Papá, Mamá told me that Diego had a brother, but that he is dead now. Is it true?"

Father and daughter were both on Dulcinea's back, slowly crossing the pueblo's entrance gate.

"Yes my darling, it's true," Alejandro told Leonor with a gentle smile, but a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Was he your son too? Or only Diego's mamá's son?"

"He was my son too, mi querida."

Leonor kept silent for a few seconds, thinking hard. And then:

"Are you sad, Papá?"

 _Darling, darling Leonor,_ he thought.

"Yes," he truthfully answered, "I'm sad about what happened." There was no point in lying to a child about these feelings. Leonor wasn't stupid, and he didn't want her to believe that he thought she was. Or that he didn't care.

"Then I am sad that you are sad," she answered. "Just like I am sad for Mamá about Joselito."

 _Joselito?_ Alejandro wondered for a split second. Oh, yes. Little José... Little José about whom Araceli almost never talked...

Leonor asked another question:

"What was his name, Papá?"

"Gilberto, mi gatita. He was Diego's twin brother."

Then after another silence, Leonor told her father, thinking aloud:

"But then... then... he was my big brother too, right?" This sounded like a discovery to her. "Just like Diego?"

Alejandro bent his head to drop a kiss on his daughter's hair, on the top of her head:

"In a way... yes. Yes he was."

She wasn't stupid, but it would be complicated to explain a six-years-old that for thirty years he hadn't known of this son's existence, or why. And even more difficult to explain that this brother of hers had hated him, had tried to kill Diego, and had wanted to destroy all of the de la Vegas.

And what would Risendo have done if he had known of Leonor's existence? Alejandro shuddered at this thought. Would the man's hatred have extended to his illegitimate half-sister, resenting her for having been acknowledged and loved by their father even despite being a bastard child when he, the legitimate heir, thought he had been discarded, disowned and hidden like a shameful family disgrace? Or would he have felt some kinship with her, because of the relative secrecy their father had chosen to keep as to her existence?

Once in the pueblo, Alejandro spotted the small carriage he had put at Araceli's disposal for the duration of her stay stationed somewhere near the church, with the mule tied to a hitching post nearby and idly chomping some hay.

"Let's look for Mamá, will you?" he told Leonor.

But apparently Araceli was done with her devotions since she was nowhere to be seen inside the church.

"Let's try the tavern, Cariño," Alejandro then suggested.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was eyeing Señora Valdès out of the corner of her eye, frowning a bit: she had heard that some commotion involving Zorro had occurred in the church just after siesta, and that this woman, who had been in there, shouted when she spotted him and alerted the soldiers, wanting them to catch him. As if he would have done any harm to her! Really! Hadn't Don Alejandro explained her?

Perhaps not, she reflected. After the fright they had had at their daughter's abduction, perhaps they had been too busy cuddling her and then peacefully resting and sleeping... But then, on the day after, hadn't Don Alejandro told her more about the man who saved her daughter? He admired him, though... And even Don Diego could have explained Zorro's fight to her, even though he sometimes disapproved of his means, and more generally speaking of any use of violence...

Some of Victoria's other customers were throwing Doña Araceli the same kind of glances but the woman didn't seem to notice the cold shoulder she was at the receiving end of, absorbed as she was in her own thoughts. Not very happy thoughts it seemed, according to the way she had been nursing her first glass of wine, her face visibly clouded by something obviously bothering her. Did her encounter with Zorro make her so troubled? ...preoccupied?

 _Well,_ Victoria thought, _that's not a reason for wanting my intended dangling from a rope!_

"Señorita!" the woman called, "another one, please."

Without a word, Victoria refilled her glass. Araceli raised an unreadable look on the taverness, as though she was... _assessing_ her?

Whatever it was, she seemed to decide that Victoria was worthy of some bit of conversation, so she told her:

"I hope you had a safe ride home after yesterday's dinner, Señorita. I'm sorry my presence at the hacienda prevented Alejandro from escorting you back himself. I didn't mean to impose on him, to take up all his time, or to have Don Diego have to escort you..."

"No apology needed," Victoria answered a bit tersely, "no doubt you'd have rather had things the other way round..." she added in a mumble.

 _Well, I certainly wouldn't go as far as to say that,_ Araceli thought inwardly, not sure she heard right what Señorita Escalante just said.

"But," Victoria added, giving in to a sudden urge to pique her and to rub things in her face, "as a matter of fact, Don Diego has been the perfect escort, absolutely charming... We've known each other forever, you know, so we are excellent friends, getting along very well and so on..."

 _Great,_ Araceli thought inwardly, _she's even on the best of terms with his son..._ But she quickly remembered that she didn't have any serious feelings for Alejandro and that the man could consort with whomever he wanted anyway, as long as Leonor didn't suffer from it. So really, there was no reason for her to resent Señorita Escalante for being on better terms with Alejandro's family than herself would ever be! It was of no consequence.

What was of consequence, though, was that her little secret now was out somewhere, hidden behind the black mask of a man she knew nothing of, not even his face or his name. Hidden, yes, but for how long? How could she be sure that the man wouldn't make any use of his newfound knowledge?

What if he told Alejandro? Or Don Diego?

What if he decided to blackmail her, just like Alejandro had been blackmailed about Leonor?

What if people back there in San Diego discovered that Leonor was an adulterine child? This time, her daughter's future would be compromised for good...

And what if, somewhere, Pascual and his Indian companion were killed because of her negligence? She didn't feel anything anymore for the man, she finally knew that she had never felt anything beside desire, lust and attraction for a pretty face, but despite their separation she was still feeling responsible for his safety, a safety which depended on his secret... After all, she'd been married to the man during five long years of her life; or, more precisely: she had been _living as his wife_ for five years, and was technically _still_ _married_ to him...

She let out a heavy sigh: what a mess! And now, many people's lives depended on this bandit's silence...

"Señorita," she asked Victoria, "what can you tell me about this outlaw called El Zorro?"

 _Wow!_ Araceli had absolutely not expected such an overenthusiastic tirade as the one Victoria was currently serving her by way of answer to her question. The taverness certainly admired the man. Praised his courage and abnegation. Extolled his many skills at swordsmanship. Said he might be an outlaw but in no way was a bandit. Lauded him and his many virtues And told her that Alejandro, as well as most of the pueblo, shared her opinion of him.

Really, Señorita Escalante's panegyric of this Zorro fellow was so vibrant that you'd think he was her brother, her father or some significant next of kin. Araceli would have to find out whether the woman had brothers around there, some family, some male relative, some cousin. It would explain why, despite claiming loud and clear that she didn't know the man's identity, she seemed to think she knew him almost... personally. But you can't really _know_ someone just from some short encounters while running away from the soldiers or hiding from the alcalde. No. And certainly not someone hiding his face and his name.

In short, Señorita Escalante's long-winded praise reassured her a very slight bit about the use this masked outlaw would make – or rather _wouldn't_ make – of her secrets, but if ever she didn't have any family left in the area, then in no way did it give her any useful clue as to the man's identity. Alejandro had said he didn't know who he was either. But perhaps she could ask him whether he had any suspicion about it, even a very slight one...?

"Ah, speaking of the devil..." Victoria suddenly told her with a bright smile now adorning her face as she pointed at the entrance door.

As it happened, Alejandro and Leonor were just entering the tavern. Probably for his daily visit to Señorita Escalante, Araceli reflected...

She took a sip of her second drink. Was it really the same wine as the days before? It tasted slightly more... _sour,_ today...


	41. Ch 41 - Horseriding

"...and then, Papá gave me the reins of his horse and he let me steer it all the way to the pueblo!"

"WHAT!?" Araceli roared as almost all of Victoria's customers turned to her. "Alejandro, are you insane?" she then asked in a more controlled voice. "This mare is far too spirited for such a young child!"

"Don't worry," Don Alejandro told her to reassure her – and also to plead his cause! – "I was there, just behind her in the saddle, ready to grab the reins again..."

"Still," she retorted, "this horse is not suited for a beginner, even less a six-years-old!"

"Firstly," Alejandro objected, "she's not a beginner. Secondly, you're biased just because Dulcinea was a bit restive at first. And thirdly," he added, covering his daughter's ears with his hands, "I didn't let Leonor really control the mount, not fully: I was still steering Dulcinea with my legs," he said in a much lower voice.

They were sitting at a table in the tavern, Leonor in her mother's lap – or rather straddling her mother's thighs, in a lively illustration of the riding lesson her father had just given her. The girl was mimicking a rider on his horse, bouncing in Araceli's lap – "Ouch! My legs! Leonor, I'm not a horse!"

Araceli had insisted on her daughter learning to ride astride like men and not side-saddle like other women, just like herself had been taught by her own father: he found it far less dangerous, and Araceli agreed with him. And decorum be damned! It shocked people around her, but as Señor Ximénez had always told his daughters: "rather a few shocked consciences at the sight of a few inches of stocking, than a wheelchair for any of my daughters!"

Araceli had been adamant about that, and Alejandro just had to comply. But inwardly, part of him was secretly happy with teaching her just the way he did with Diego, the way his own father had taught him... and the only way he knew! And truth be told, he was not just a little proud of his daughter's skills, and recognised in her a worthy offspring of his, of his loins.

"Leonor!" Alejandro told her. "Instead of bruising your mother's thighs any longer, go to the counter and ask Señorita Escalante for a glass of orange juice..."

On his way to the tavern he had heard of Zorro's near escape from the church and wanted to have Araceli's end of the story rather than some distorted gossips. And he'd also rather discuss it away from Leonor's ears: he had noted that any mention of the outlaw tended to make the girl nervous. He had to admit that a giant black clad and faceless man could be scary for a child who wasn't used to him.

"I was... praying," Araceli said, "in the right aisle of the church. Then I saw him, and I cried out. I was... surprised. And afraid. And then the padre was there too, and he tried to explain to me..."

She paused, looking around, and then she resumed in a murmur so as not to be heard: "He asked me to let the man escape. There was a soldier, and he ran to the bandit. So I... I decided to trust the padre, since you trust him too, and I... delayed the soldier a bit. And apparently the man managed to escape. End of the story."

Discreetly, Alejandro reached to her hand and squeezed it to show her his approval of what she chose to do. Then he withdrew his hand and glanced at the counter: he didn't want them to give Leonor false hopes about her parents.

Araceli caught this glance: of course he didn't want Señorita Escalante to get the wrong idea about them and to mistake this purely friendly gesture for what it wasn't!

Alejandro noticed that Victoria was glancing at the entrance door every now and then, and each time with a bit of growing disappointment and a hint of edginess. Was she waiting for someone? Or just hoping a visit from her masked hero? But no, he certainly wouldn't enter through the main entrance in broad daylight for all eyes to see... especially right in front of the soldiers in the plaza and of the alcade's office.

Then he remembered that when he and Leonor entered the tavern a short quarter of an hour earlier Victoria's face had unmistakably brightened, and she had expectantly stared at the door a few more seconds after they came in. Then, her large grin faded a bit, and when he sat down at Doña Araceli's table she went to greet him – and his daughter – and to take their order.

Had she been expecting someone else in his wake? Had she been expecting... Diego?

Heh heh... Alejandro didn't know how things had been when his son escorted Victoria back the night before, he had been too tired to wait for him and had gone to bed before Diego returned... Perhaps he should have innocently enquired about it in the morning – _so, did you and Victoria have a nice ride yesterday, son? what did you two chat about? did she enjoy the ride? how was the moonlight?_ At the idea of the atmosphere a nice moonlit night offered to a young man gallantly escorting the lady of his heart, a nice dreamy smile grazed Alejandro's lips and reached his eyes. But would his shrinking violet of a son dare suggest a moonlight stroll? Would hopeless Diego even _think_ of it? It was common knowledge that the boy didn't have a romantic bone in his body, he then remembered with a small sigh.

Araceli caught Alejandro's lingering stare in Victoria's direction, and she didn't miss the dreamy look on his face or the pining sigh which followed. _Oh yes,_ she thought a bit ruefully, _he has it bad...!_

She downed the rest of her wine. Bottoms up! _Here's to you, dearest Alejandro. To your love life..._

She made a face for a split second: this Madeira really tasted strangely more acrid, today. Weird...

But it suddenly seemed to sweeten when Leonor's happy little face smiled at her mother on her way back from the counter, and Araceli made room for her daughter to climb back in her lap.

"Back into the saddle, mi amor?" she offered, patting her own knees in a tempting invitation.

Leonor didn't need to be told twice and was soon straddling her mother's thighs again. Alejandro smiled at the beautiful sight of his daughter and her mother being cosy with each other, no matter what the others could think of their strange and unusual little family.

Then Leonor seized two imaginary reins and resumed 'riding'.

"Look, Papá, I'm going to jump the gate. Gee up!"

She giggled.

"She's really a natural at horse-riding," Alejandro told Araceli. "It's a nice change from Diego..." he added with a small disillusioned smile.

"Oh, stop saying that, Alejandro," Araceli slightly chided him in a rather reproachful tone of voice. "It hurts him, you know... It truly does, I could see it."

Did it, really? She didn't know Diego; if she did, she'd know that not much seemed to touch his passive son, to get at him. Or did it? Don Alejandro gave Araceli a surprised glance, but seemed to accept the small rebuke. She was right after all: true or not this was no way of speaking about one's own son to other people. Especially in the presence of the boy's little sister.

And within Victoria's earshot! Oh dear, for a split second he had forgotten about that! He glanced at her, hopeful that from where she was she didn't hear him: he wanted her to have a better opinion of Diego, to see him in a new light, and certainly not to hear a renewed confirmation of the boy's flaws!

Then he saw her suddenly straighten bolt upright when at the same time her face brightened cheerfully and her eyes lit up, as if something she had been waiting all day for had finally happened. Alejandro followed her gaze: Diego had just crossed the threshold, with Felipe in tow.

Don Alejandro barely stopped himself from rubbing his hands in glee. Victoria could rave on and on and as much as she wanted about Zorro, but she sure was glad to see his son.

Diego immediately spotted his father and Doña Araceli cosily seated together, one-on-one. Well, not really one-on-one: Leonor was there, too.

"Will you let me steer your horse on the way home, Papá?" she was asking their father.

"Wouldn't you rather ride back in Mamá's carriage?" Alejandro replied.

"No," she answered resolutely. "Oh, please, Papá, pleeeease!"

She tried her puppy eyes on him, but she didn't master it yet.

"No, because anyway I will probably go back home a bit late," Don Alejandro told her. "I have things to do here in the pueblo. You'll go home with Mamá. Or with Diego and Felipe if you–"

"DIEGO!" the little girl said, interrupting her father, "Did you ride here on horseback?"

Araceli laughed at her eagerness.

"Uh... yes I did," he answered.

"What's your horse's name? Will you let me ride him and steer?"

"Leonor, stop bothering Diego," Araceli told her.

The girl pouted a bit, and Alejandro smiled at them:

"She sure has a gift for horse-riding. She certainly didn't take after her mother in that area," he added in a teasing voice, an impish glint in his eyes, glancing mischievously in Señora Valdès's direction.

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny," Araceli sarcastically commented. "I'll have you know I've made much progress since then..."

"I agree, I agree," he told her, "but don't ruin the fun of my memories..."

She let out a gentle sigh and had a small self-derisory smile:

"You won't ever let me forget this, will you?" she asked him rhetorically.

He grinned.

"Not a chance, my dear."

And indeed, he fondly remembered...


	42. Ch 42 - Pride comes before a fall

Again, Alejandro's memories came back to the forefront of his mind...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_In order to honour Doña Araceli for giving up the splendid mare to his benefit a few weeks earlier, the next time he had to go to San Diego for business Alejandro took Dulcinea instead of his usual horse. And, he reflected, it would also be a good test to see how the spirited young mare behaved on a long-distance journey._

_His lawyer admired the animal, and some patrons at the tavern he was staying in recognised it as one of Señor Alvarez's horses, an offspring of his superb stallion Toboso. Some of them even knew who had bought the stallion, and wondered why this mare now was with a stranger from Los Angeles..._

_As soon as he arrived in San Diego, Alejandro wrote a few messages for his acquaintances there to make them know of his arrival in town and of his coming visit to them. He then called a young boy who was passing by the tavern's porch:_

_"Hola, muchacho!"_

_"Me, Señor?"_

_"Si. Do you want to earn a few centavos?"_

_"Oh, si Señor! Always!"_

_Alejandro chuckled. The child was more or less Felipe's age, and his eagerness reminded him of the young deaf-mute boy._

_"How old are you, niño?"_

_"Ten years old, Señor," the child answered. "But I will soon be ten and a half!" he emphasised._

_The older man raised an eyebrow in sign of appreciation._

_"Well then, young Señor, do you know Jorge Alvarez? Si? Good, this message is for him," Alejandro told the boy while giving him a folded sheet of paper. "And do you know where Don Julio Casal's hacienda is? Yes? This one is for him. And Señora Ximénez de Valdès?"_

_"The Ximénez Company, Señor?"_

_"Si. Here's a note for her. And another one for Don Luis Nuñez, if you know where his office is. Will you remember it all, muchacho?"_

_"Si Señor: Alvarez the horse trader, Don Julio, the Ximénez Company, and Señor Nuñez's office."_

_"That's it," Don Alejandro told him. "Now here's for the trouble..."_

_And he took his leather purse out of his jacket to give the boy more than the few centavos he had promised._

_"Oh, gracias Señor, muchas gracias," the child said as he looked at the coins in awe. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Excelencia?"_

_Alejandro chuckled again._

_"Not for the moment, niño. What's your name?"_

_"Pedro, Excelencia."_

_"Then go, Pedro. Hasta la vista!"_

_"It will be a pleasure, Señor!" the boy said as he left._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"Thank you for the invitation to have a business lunch at your hacienda, Doña Araceli," Alejandro told Señora Ximénez de Valdès after the usual and customary greetings._

_"Oh, you're welcome. Since I couldn't invite you for dinner tonight, that was the least I could do for a good business partner, and a good friend!"_

_Not free for dinner tonight, uh? Probably some one-on-one romantic candlelit dinner with her foppish beau, Don Alejandro thought. What a waste of her time! Really, why didn't she do better than Cesar Villegas? Alright, alright, Alejandro had given up long ago the idea of marrying off his son to the charming very young widow – and truth be told, this idea now seemed to make him rather... uneasy, without him knowing exactly why – but still..._

_He found Doña Araceli to be a bit... subdued, today. Slightly listless, down. Bah, perhaps she was a bit tired._

_"I am glad for this opportunity to thank you in person for letting me have this splendid mare," Don Alejandro told her after lunch, "and for sending her to me. I wasn't sure my letter could convey my appreciation of this gesture: it went straight to my heart, and Dulcinea has soon become my favourite."_

_"Dulcinea?"_

_"Yes, I found this name rather fitting. What do you think of it?"_

_"Fitting? ...Uh... she's not exactly gentle, though..."_

_"She's still young and a bit wild, sometimes overexcited," Alejandro told her, "but her eagerness is good to see. She just needs to calm down. It will come with age and with training."_

_"...and with her first foal...?"_

_"I see that you haven't forgotten," he said with a smile. "You really want this not-yet-existing offspring of hers, it seems!"_

_"Well," she replied, "if I take this foal at a very young age, I could train him, tame him, break him in myself, and he'll be used to me... It would certainly be a superb animal, spirited and all, but whom I could control and who would trust and obey me..."_

_"I see... But you haven't told me yet your price for Dulcinea... How much did she cost you?"_

_"No price, Don Alejandro. She's a good and wonderful horse, who deserves to be mounted by an excellent horseman."_

_"Thank you for the compliment, Doña Araceli, but I can't accept such a present. That's far too much! Please allow me to repay you the price you bought her..."_

_"Don't even think of it," she objected, "and rather think of things that way: I'm not presenting you with this mare, I'm presenting her with you. As I told you, she deserves a good horseman; take very good care of her, choose the most beautiful and spirited stallion you have to service her, give me their offspring and I'll consider we're even."_

_"Oh, so_ _**I** _ _'m the gift in that deal?" Alejandro asked with twinkling eyes._

_"A gifted gift, if I may say so," Doña Araceli answered. "But tell me, how did she behave on the long way from Los Angeles?"_

_"Like a very good girl, I must say," he answered with a slightly smug grin. "She behaved and complied."_

_"I see that you are very glad you could tame such a wild and spirited girl, and control her..." Araceli remarked with a laugh._

_"Oh, it's not so much a matter of taming, but rather of establishing mutual trust and understanding."_

_Seeing the both sceptical and envious expression on her face, a sudden thought crossed his mind, some wild guess at first which soon became a certainty. He chuckled and asked her with a teasing glint in his eyes:_

_"She threw you off, didn't she?"_

_Doña Araceli rolled her eyes and pursed her lips in a little pout, with a strange mix of a hint of slight irritation at his spot-on guess and a pinch of unwitting amusement at the obvious fun he was having at her expense._

_Then she admitted a bit grudgingly:_

_"Alright, alright, you win: she threw me. Happy?"_

_"Not if she hurt you," he replied. "Were you injured?" he inquired, now more concerned than amused._

_"No, don't worry, no damage done," she answered. "No harm. Except to my ego. Oh, and also to another part of my being that both my mother and propriety have always forbidden me to mention by name," she added with a comical funny face, followed by a both amused and sheepish little smile._

_Alejandro couldn't help but chuckle again._

_'Oh you, smarty-pants', Araceli thought inwardly with some unexpected fondness. Unexpected and... uninvited; but not really unwelcome._

_But still, the man looked far too pleased with himself and with his riding skills. Or far too amused with her own lack thereof, and she couldn't tell what annoyed her most. Or what amused her most... After all, she had to admit, this was indeed quite funny... on second thought._

_She conceded defeat:_

_"Alright, this might not be entirely the mare's fault. It's possible that, perhaps, I may have overestimated my skills as a horsewoman a bit."_

_Don Alejandro failed at totally suppressing another amused smile at her obvious reluctance to this simple admission. Oh yes, she had quite some self-pride... and 'pride comes before a fall', he remembered fittingly. Literally, in this case... He chuckled again at this thought. Better not say it aloud though, she might not find the pun that funny..._

_"Well, you know the saying," he told her instead, "When you fall off the horse, get right back on!"_

_"I've not waited for you to tell me this before doing so, mind you!" she retorted a bit gruffly._

_He didn't let her tone deter him or mar his merry mood._

_"You may have mounted a horse again, but not_ _**this** _ _horse!" he said, holding his hand out to her in a clear invitation. "Come on, Dulcinea is just here outside, and I'll stay right beside her..."_

_"WHAT! But... but... I can't, I'm not dressed fittingly for riding," she objected, showing him her fancy frilly lacy and silky lavender dress to illustrate her point._

_"I'm in no hurry," he simply said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "I can wait for you to change into a more fitting outfit."_

_"But... even though... I mean... it's not possible just now! I have things to do! Sorry Don Alejandro, and thank you for the offer, but I don't have time for a training session."_

_He eyed her a bit suspiciously, the amused glint never leaving his eyes._

_"Hmm..." he said, "wouldn't you be trying to find excuses? Trying to avoid the confrontation with Dulcinea?"_

_"Absolutely not!" she stated with so much bad faith that Alejandro had a hard time not to laugh aloud. "...Erm... well... maybe..." she then qualified in a drawling and reluctant voice, "...perhaps..." she finally admitted. "But I really don't have time right now, I have a business appointment with a shipowner in less than half an hour."_

_"Alright, but you've only earned a reprieve... You can't eternally postpone! Let's say... tomorrow? Your time will be mine, fair Lady. I want to reconcile you and Dulcinea, let's just say it's part of my repayment for the sumptuous present you gave me. So, tomorrow? Unless your... ahem... your previously bruised parts still hurt a little bit...?" he dared ask with meaningfully raised eyebrows._

_Oh, really, this man liked far too much poking gentle fun at her._

_"Oh, Don Alejandro de la Vega!" she mockingly chastised him, pointing a finger at him in fake rebuke. "How dare you make mention of such matters, honestly... Such a gentleman as yourself! You should feel ashamed," she added, doing her best to appear severe and offended instead of downright burst out laughing. "I assure you that now only my ego still suffers from the fall: I've stopped looking for every cushion I could find around before sitting on a chair or a sofa..."_

_"Or a saddle...?" he suggested._

_"You're walking a thin line here, Don Alejandro," she warned him gently, trying hard not laugh. "I might take offense of the fact that you're addressing the delicate subject of my tender parts, and–"_

_This time he couldn't hold back any longer and burst out laughing. When he got his breath and voice back, at the sight of Doña Araceli with arms akimbo and hands on her hips he said:_

_"Sorry, I know I shouldn't have. But I would like to point out that_ _**you** _ _were the one who initially brought the subject up, my dear!"_

_The nerve of this man! But against her better judgement, she chuckled._

_"Alright, alright," she said with the hint of a smile in her voice and on her lips, "I admit I brought this upon myself, I guess. Let's call a truce?"_

_"Nothing would make me happier, Señora! And as for the truce between you and Dulcinea, let's say tomorrow?"_

_She sighed but couldn't help but smile at him and at his gentle eagerness. A wiseguy, granted – and who liked far too much teasing her – but a charming one. And genuinely kind, too._

_"You won't give up on this idea, will you?" she asked._

_He just smiled by way of answer._

_"As you wish," she went on. "Really, I've known mules who were less obstinate..." she added sotto voce. "At least you will see that I'm not as hopeless a rider as you seem to think. Ten o'clock, before it's too hot outside?" she offered._

_"Tomorrow, ten," he agreed with an almost childish grin. "That's a date, then..."_


	43. Ch 43 - Back in the saddle

_That same evening, Don Alejandro was invited at Don Julio's for dinner; he was throwing a dinner party for his twenty-something niece and nephew from La Paz who were to stay at his hacienda for the few months to come. Imagine Alejandro's surprise when among the guests he saw Doña Araceli herself!_

_Of course, he then realised: if the nephews were to stay there for some time, he'd introduce to them the people he rubbed shoulders with on a rather regular basis. Including Señora Ximénez de Valdès whom he was often doing business with._

_Her presence here was a pleasant surprise, Don Alejandro thought. Even more so that for once she wasn't flanked with Don Cesar. Quite a nice change!_

_He didn't chat much with her, thought: he was seated between Don Julio's wife and their niece, so he was busy entertaining the ladies with his conversation. The young girl was twenty-three and kept watching over her nineteen years-old younger brother as though he was still a child, but other than that she was pleasant company. And the matchmaker in Don Alejandro couldn't help but note somewhere in the back of his mind that she could make a very suitable wife for Diego, and thus a nice daughter-in-law for himself... Too bad she didn't have any reason to go to Los Angeles in the coming years... But who knows? Sometimes fate and fortune had unexpected plans in store._

_The day after, at ten, Don Alejandro knocked at Señora Ximénez's door. To the mestiza servant who opened the door he said he was expected by Doña Araceli._

_When she arrived to greet him he noted that she wasn't dressed for riding._

_"I see you haven't given up this idea of yours to make me mount this horse..." she said a bit dejectedly and clearly lacking enthusiasm._

_"And I'm starting to be afraid you had forgotten about it, Señora..." he answered, alluding to her attire._

_Suddenly he feared he had been too pushy with her, with this idea of his. Was the prospect of having to mount Dulcinea what was making her so... despondent?_

_"But if you really don't want to, I'm not going to insist any further of course," he hastily added. "Let's forget about it, will you?"_

_"No," she replied, "no; that's fine. And you're right, I shouldn't let a defeat deter me." She paused a bit. "I'll mount your Dulcinea," she said with apparently a little bit more fake enthusiasm than she was really feeling, Alejandro sensed. "I won't let an animal get the better of me!" she stated resolutely. "I won't let her have the last word over me, for Heaven's sake!"_

_Alejandro smiled. Much self-pride, indeed! But he could understand that; oh yes, he could! Understand... and forgive, too._

_"Good," he said. "Then I'm waiting for you in the stables?"_

_"Oh, no, make yourself comfortable here while Concepcion helps me change into something much more comfortable and fitting. Please, make yourself at home in the sala, and in the meantime don't hesitate to have a look at my very modest library here in the bookcase. Anibal will bring you some refreshment."_

_"Muchas gacias, Señora."_

_"Anibal!" she called. "Concepcion!"_

_And while the middle-aged mestiza who had opened the door to him arrived and soon disappeared with her mistress to a corridor, a young Indian boy brought him a pitcher of freshly pressed orange juice._

_A couple minutes later Doña Araceli came back, ready for a ride._

_At first, woman and mare were wary around each other, despite Don Alejandro's efforts to smooth the rough edges. Señora Valdès was prudently keeping her distance, only reluctantly patting Duclinea's muzzle, neck or hindquarters at Don Alejandro's prodding. But she clearly was still pouting a bit._

_That woman sure could hold a grudge, he thought. He'd have to keep this piece of information somewhere in the back of his mind._

_He noted that Dulcinea too was unusually difficult and fussy. When he took Doña Araceli's hand to guide it to the mare's forehead to gently scratch her between the ears, he could hear Dulcinea snort and she tried to shove their hands away by pushing their arms with her head. Then she repeatedly shook her head as though to say 'no'._

_She finally calmed down when he let go of Doña Araceli's hand to get into the saddle. He gently patted her neck to get her to relax, then he held his hand out down to the woman to help her into the saddle too. Dulcinea didn't seem too keen on the idea and she tried to rear, but he tugged on the reins and the mare finally complied._

_"Are you comfortable?" Don Alejandro asked Doña Araceli as he was adjusting his sitting position behind her._

_"As much as possible considering the circumstances," she cryptically answered._

_"Alright, let's go, then."_

_And slipping one arm on each side of her he took a solid hold of the reins and urged Dulcinea into a gentle trot._

_After a few minutes of switching between the gaits, Alejandro noticed that Doña Araceli was still very tense, and holding herself very stiff on the saddle. Certainly Dulcinea was feeling this too, and it surely didn't help putting the mare at ease either._

_"Try to relax, Señora," he told Araceli in a soft voice. "You're so tense you'll have sore muscles by tomorrow if you go on like that. Relax," he repeated, "lean back on me and just hold onto the front of the saddle with your hands, I'm taking care of the rest."_

_She hesitantly did as instructed. But when he felt that she was still holding back a bit from fully putting her weight on his chest, he repeated once more softly in her ear:_

_"Just lean on me, relax and enjoy the ride, my dear. Nothing else for the moment. Just trust me."_

_Perhaps he shouldn't sound so familiar with addressing her, he thought in retrospect. Maybe she felt offended by his affectionate 'my dear'. He didn't mean anything by that, didn't think about it. It just slipped out; just like it did when he was addressing young Victoria Escalante, his late friend's daughter._

_Except that Doña Araceli was neither a friend's daughter nor a child anymore; she was a successful businesswoman and had a rather well-established position in San Diego's society, even though recently so._

_And, Alejandro reflected, Cesar Villegas would probably not be very pleased with this endearment. Strangely, Don Alejandro rather liked this idea and it tended to make him want to persist addressing her that way._

_Doña Araceli, for her part, was now more at ease and he could feel that the tension had left her. Dulcinea might have felt it too, since she had finally become less edgy after a few more minutes._

_"Take the reins, now" he told the Señora._

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Yes. And put your feet in the stirrups."_

_"You're absolutely sure?" she repeated._

_"I am. I trust you. So you just have to trust me when I say I trust you."_

_"Alright..." she said, sounding rather unsure._

_Sensing the change, Dulcinea fussed a bit but Alejandro pressed his legs to her side to remind her who was in charge but also to make her calm down and let her know that he was here with her. She grudgingly complied and finally let the woman steer her._

_After some time Araceli became more confident and she sat up straight in the saddle. Alejandro suddenly lacked the contact of her back against his chest but since he was forced to hold onto her waist to keep his balance – "with you permission, Señora?" – and strictly to prevent himself from falling, well... he didn't complain. He knew that this posture would be rather improper in normal circumstances, but in this case it was permissible... strictly for balance._

_He noted that her stance was indeed very good, as well as her hold on the reins it seemed. She hadn't lied: she knew how to ride and wasn't hopeless at that. She just seemed not to get along very well with such a spirited horse as Dulcinea._

_Alejandro even made her urge the mare into a gentle gallop, and Dulcinea behaved._

_Finally he dismounted and let Araceli ride her all by herself. He saw that the tension came back, but she held on and didn't let the horse get the better of her. Emboldened, she even made Dulcinea jump a low fence on the way back to the stables._

_There, she went to Don Alejandro, looking rather pleased with herself._

_"Thank you for insisting on that," she told him with a smile. "You were right, I had to mount her again. But it will remain a one-time thing: this animal is far too wild for me..."_

_"Is that your awkward way of admitting you bit off more than you could chew when you bought her, and then refused to sell her to me?" Don Alejandro asked her in a teasing tone._

_"Is that your awkward way of thanking me for doing the wise thing in finally letting you have her, and for giving her to you for nothing?" she retorted tit for tat, mimicking his tone._

_He burst out laughing. Really, she was good at giving as good as she got, he thought. And it was not the first time he noted that._

_He raised his arms, holding them out to her to help her dismount. As soon as her feet touched the ground he removed his hands from her waist. If anyone were to enter, he didn't want them to get the wrong idea, and he didn't want to mar her reputation. Not that she wasn't successfull in doing it herself and without his help – but with Lieutenant Alcalá's at first, and now with Don Cesar's – but still... he'd rather not have a hand in that when all they had was a perfectly innocent friendly relationship._

_Doña Araceli went to a crate in the corner of the stables and came back with a carrot which she presented to the mare. Dulcinea didn't even sniff it and turned her nose up at it. Señora Valdès took a few steps back._

_"Oh?" Don Alejandro said, surprised, turning to his mare. "What's happening to you, girl?" he asked, affectionately scratching her head. "Anything wrong?"_

_He too went to the crate, took a carrot and presented the treat to the mare, who happily munched on it. Araceli took a few steps to Don Alejandro to help him feed his horse, but then Dulcinea stopped eating the carrot and pushed her away with her head. Araceli stepped to the side, and then she tried to walk to Alejandro's side again; and again Dulcinea sort of head-butted her in the shoulder._

_Don Alejandro started to scold her, but he stopped short when he heard Doña Araceli laugh heartily._

_He turned a puzzled look at her._

_"Oh dear!" she said between fits of laugher, "she's awfully possessive of you!"_

_"Possessive?"_

_"Can't you see it?" she told him. "She's simply jealous, she doesn't want me anywhere near you. She wants you all to herself..."_

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_"Thank you again, Don Alejandro," she said as she saw him to the door._

_"You're welcome," he replied, "that was a pleasure. At least for me, if not for Dulcinea!"_

_They laughed._

_A pleasure indeed. Riding and bantering with her had been very pleasant, even though having her so close to him with her back touching his chest and leaning back against it had felt sort of... strange... thrilling... but in a good way, somehow. Not really unpleasant, in fact._

_"I'm sorry I can't keep you for lunch, but fortunately I'm hosting a small dinner here for a few acquaintances tonight. Would you join us?"_

_"Well, it will be an honour, Doña Araceli."_

_"Tonight, then?"_

_"Tonight."_

_And with that, he respectfully took her hand and bowed over it to take his leave._

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_The morning after, Don Alejandro woke up in a good mood. Was it because he had obtained a good price for the tallow produced from his cows? And all this thanks to Doña Araceli: at dinner he was seated in front of a man she introduced to him as one of her suppliers from Baja California. The man too was into business, but contrary to her he wasn't trading with Spain: he limited his activities to the Californias._

_It had been a quiet but pleasant evening. Strangely, Cesar Villegas hadn't been there, but Alejandro didn't miss him at all. Well, perhaps that too was playing a small part in his merry mood. He didn't know why, but the young man's presence had a tendency to grate on his nerves. He couldn't objectively tell why though: Don Cesar never wronged him in any way, or anyone as far as Alejandro knew, he had always behaved pefectly courteously with him... but still, Don Alejandro de la Vega wasn't very fond of Don Cesar Villegas's presence._

_In this sunny morning he wandered on the market from stall to stall, not looking for anything in particular but enjoying the morning's gentle weather._

_Then, on a stall presenting fabrics, linen and tapestry items, something caught his eye: a nice and soft silky cushion, with – o supreme irony – a magnificent horse embroidered on it!_

_Don Alejandro couldn't help it: he bought the cushion, of course. His merry mood was making him playful, this morning. Then he found the same young Pedro as the day before hanging around the plaza._

_"Hola Pedro!"_

_"Excelencia," the boy said eagerly, hastily taking off his hat, "is there anything for your service?"_

_"Yes there is, niño. The Ximénez Company, same as yesterday, Doña Araceli... do you remember?"_

_"Si Señor."_

_"Good. I'll give you a parcel for her in a few minutes, just wait for me at the tavern's door, will you..."_

_"Of course Señor!"_

_Once he was upstairs in his room Don Alejandro sat at the small wooden table near the window; there, on a visiting card, he wrote down a cheeky three-words line in his finest penmanship:_

Just in case...


	44. Ch 44 - Diego's conquest

"So," Victoria asked young Leonor who had followed her big brother to her counter, "how are you getting along with Don Diego now? Are finally you pleased with him, Señorita?"

"Hmmm..." she answered, earnestly thinking hard, "hmm... yes," she finally decided, speaking a bit shyly. "He knows a lot of things, and he draws really well!"

"My, my... thank you," Diego told her with an amused smile. "I'm glad I have your approval, fair damsel."

She giggled at the unusual and humorous endearment, and Victoria couldn't suppress a little smile. Indeed, after a rather awkward and almost rough first contact, he was now being really charming with his baby sister. In fact, he appeared to be rather good with children!

Awkward, bookish, solitary Diego de la Vega was good with children, after all. On paper, it wouldn't have been the obvious thing, but to someone who knew how kind and gentle he could be... who saw him interact with young Felipe when the latter was still a frightened little boy or later a teenager... yes, in fact it made sense, on second thought.

"So," Victoria said again, "you finally like him? You don't find him too tall, after all?"

"Si," the child replied immediately, "but it is not his fault, you know."

Diego smiled, unbeknownst to her.

"Mamá says it is wrong to criticise people about their physical appearance," Leonor went on, obviously repeating a well-learned lesson. "She says that it is just chance, nothing else, and that people shouldn't judge other people according to how they look. She says that it is not important, and that sometimes we can be misled by that and make mistakes because of that," the girl finally added, ending her almost pedantic recitation.

"A wise woman, it seems..." Diego murmured, thoughtful.

"Hum... yes, indeed," Victoria added in turn.

"What is important," Leonor went on, happy to find in Victoria an attentive ear, "is that he is kind. And he knows a lot of things about sketching. And chess, too. And also Indian plants: he can make magic potions, you know... he is like a sorcerer!" she exclaimed, sounding very pleased with this idea.

Diego had a gentle laugh:

"Oh, no mi querida," he then told her, "it's not magic, it's science: there is always a logical explanation behind any of these things. I'll show you and explain you if you want."

"Oh yes, please!" she said eagerly, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "You'll show me your tricks, right?"

Again, he chuckled.

"These are not tricks, Leonor, just natural phenomena... But yes, I'll show a few things."

"Great! Thank you Diego!" the girl said happily.

"Well, I am glad that you're very pleased with Don Diego, then," Victoria told her with a nice smile.

"Oh, yes, he is wonderful. And it's funny that he looks a bit like me. And even though he is beautiful and Mamá says it's not important, I like him like that. And he can do lots and lots of things, knows lots and lots of things too, and when I'm older, I want to marry him!"

Diego choked as though something had gone down the wrong way, and after a second of stunned silence Victoria burst out laughing.

"What?" Leonor asked, a bit hurt at their reactions, "It's not his fault that he is beautiful! And he is clever too, so that makes up for it."

Victoria regained some seriousness to try to knock some sense into the child.

"But you can't marry him, young Señorita, he'll be far too old for that!"

"Well, thank you Victoria," Diego said dryly in mock hurt, raising a hand to his heart in an offended gesture.

Victoria tilted her head to the side, in a _'well, you know what I mean'_ attitude.

"He's not old, Señora," Leonor denied, "he must be your age..."

A bright smile adorned Señorita Escalante's face at the girl's indirect compliment, and Diego smiled again in a very self-conceited way: _'ah, you see?'_ he seemed to be telling Victoria.

"Thank you very much young Señorita" she told the girl, "but in fact he is some years older than I am," she added, flashing a _'so much for that'_ sort of little smirk at him.

He smirked back at her.

"Whatever," Diego then told his little sister, "Victoria's point is that by the time you're a fine and charming young lady old enough to get married, she and I will be gray-haired and wrinkled, while you'll be a pretty young woman!"

He winked at Victoria. _Tit for tat, mi amor._

"Well, yes," Leonor replied matter-of-factly and not unsettled in the least, "just like Papá and Mamá, then!"

 _Oh_. Well, of course, from her point of view... Yes, considering Leonor's parentage, in her eyes age gap didn't seem to be an obstacle or even a hindrance, and certainly not an impediment.

"But what's more," Diego pointed out, "I'm your brother!"

"Hmm...?" Leonor mumbled.

"One just doesn't marry one's own sibling, Leonor, that's simply not the done thing!"

"Ah...? Uh... well, of course, normally, I know!" the child said. "But... even when they didn't know each other before...?"

Victoria smiled.

"Yes, Leonor," Diego patiently answered, "even in that case. That's forbidden, that's all. It would be like marrying one's own mother or father."

Diego paused as Leonor made a face at the thought of this highly disturbing idea.

"That's strictly prohibited," he added as a conclusion.

Leonor seemed to ponder that, and then she declared:

"Oh well, too bad. You will have to find someone else to marry, then," she said earnestly.

Diego tried hard to hide his chuckle, as well as Victoria.

"Well, I will try to get over it," he told her.

He and Victoria exchanged an amused look.

But Leonor didn't see it. She had already turned to Victoria:

"And I will find someone else to marry, too. Or maybe not, never mind: perhaps I'll just don't marry, like Mamá. Doesn't matter," she stated very matter-of-factly.

"What?" Victoria asked her, surprised. "Don't you dream of getting married?"

Leonor seemed to ponder this.

"Hum... I don't know..." she answered. "No, I don't remember... Not particularly, I guess."

"Don't you _want_ to?" she insisted.

"Perhaps, I don't know. It depends," the child answered.

"Depends?! Depends on what?" Victoria asked, puzzled.

Leonor was the first little girl she ever met who didn't already dream of her wedding day. The first _woman_ she ever met who wasn't expecting marriage someday. Who considered the possibility of never getting married without it seeming to bother her. _Bah,_ Victoria thought, _probably still too young for that yet,_ she simply reflected.

"Depends on the man I could marry of course!"

 _Very wise girl,_ Diego thought.

 _Yes, makes sense after all,_ Victoria reflected.

"And since I can't have Diego..." Leonor went on. "Perhaps there will be no one else I want! Simply that! ...We'll see, but for now I know I am still a child," she added, pouting.

"Time will tell?" Diego provided.

"Yes," his sister replied, "but it's really not fun to be a child..." she sighed, pouting even more.

He smiled and Victoria saw him look at his sister a bit... protectively. And she suddenly took pity in advance on the still unknown and yet very hypothetic poor young boy who, in a dozen years, would have to gather his courage to court Doña Leonor de la Vega y Ximénez: the boy would have to not only face her father's stern and overprotective watchful eyes – _'glare'?_ – but also her brother's! This young man would better be on his best behaviour... But perhaps the hardest person to convince might very well be Leonor herself: it would be rather hard to compete with Don Diego... at least in Leonor's current opinion. Charming, educated, kind, good-looking, rich, knowledgeable Diego de la Vega... And after all, perhaps in some other women's eyes too it might be hard to compete with him, Victoria realised.

The thought made her throw a discreet sideways glance at the girl's mother on the other side of the room. Who had apparently been looking at them from her seat. At _him_ , probably.

Really, couldn't the woman give up on this idea and forget about him? She'd already had the father, and now she set her sights on the son! Honestly! Couldn't she see that just because of Leonor's existence, Don Diego was off limits to her?

He wasn't for her, full stop.

And more than ever, more than earlier in the day, she resolved to take him apart before he leaves the tavern and to talk to him. He would probably be shocked to no end, but she had to. He was a very suitable possibility for the deal she wanted to clinch... _clinch_ being the word, really!

Today, she wouldn't let him leave before she had this talk with him. The night before, she had wanted to take the time to think it over, since the idea had just sprouted in her mind on the way back home. But now... now, yes. She had made up her mind.

And she'd better act _before_ Señora Valdès made her move on him – if she hadn't already. She seemed a bit out, this afternoon. And he too looked a bit tired, even though indolence was more or less his usual state. So... did they both miss siesta? Or did they indeed spend siesta time in bed, but... not sleeping?

 _Ow_ , Victoria hoped it wasn't the case. Don Diego was probably such an easy prey, almost a sitting duck for a more... seasoned woman! Poor Diego! Victoria told herself that she really had to come to his rescue.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by Don Alejandro coming to her counter to pay his bill before leaving. When he held out his left arm over the wooden surface to hand her the coins, the sleeve of his jacket was slightly drawn back, pulling his shirt's sleeve an inch back too. Victoria then noticed a blue ribbon wrapped around his left wrist in three coils before ending up with its two ends tied together.

 _Oh?_ She wondered what this could be doing there, she had never noticed it before.

Diego's eyes too stopped on the satin sky-blue ribbon. He then remembered that Leonor's cut mop of hair had been tied up with a blue ribbon when her abductors had sent it to their father as a strong incentive to pay the ransom. So, he was now wearing it as a keepsake of his daughter, some sort of token of his affection for her? It was... sweet, indeed, but Diego couldn't help a slight pang of jealousy at Don Alejandro's obvious adoration for Leonor. After all, had his father ever worn or carried with him anything that was Diego's in the past?

He humphed inwardly.

Then another confused thought troubled his mind a bit: hadn't Leonor's ribbon rather been made of velvet and not of satin?

 _Bah,_ Diego told himself inwardly, brushing this thought aside, _apparently not._ Never mind, his memory of the details of this disturbing scene was probably hazy, with everything else that happened since then...


	45. Ch 45 - Marriage of inconvenience

Don Alejandro gone, Leonor stayed with her mother and her big brother.

"Show me a trick, please," the girl begged him, "show me a trick! Pretty please!"

She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Where did you learn that?" her mother asked her.

"What?" Leonor asked.

"What you just did with your eyes. You certainly didn't learn it from me. So where did you see it?"

"It's Aunt Faustina. She does this when she asks Uncle Gaspar something. Uncle Gaspar... or Abuelo, too."

"Faustina, uh..." Araceli said as for herself only. "I'll have to have a talk with her..." she muttered.

"Diego, Diego, pleeeease!" Leonor insisted. "Please, Diegito, show me something!"

"LEONOR! How can you be so familiar!" her mother reprimanded her. "Please Don Diego, forgive her. I apologise on my daughter's behalf, I'm sure she meant no disresp–"

"That's all right," he said, chuckling. "Don't worry, I don't feel offended. In fact, it's rather sweet..."

"So you will show me a trick?" his sister asked.

"These are not tricks, Leonor," he chuckled, "but experiments; I already told you so."

She nodded. Whatever he wanted, as long as he showed her some magic.

"Victoria!" Diego called.

She was immediately at his side:

"Si Don Diego? What is there for your service?"

Wow, she had been fast, he noted a bit puzzled.

"Do you have some fresh uncut red cabbage?"

What a weird question, Victoria reflected. What again did he have in mind, now?

"Si," she answered, a bit disconcerted.

"Good. Could you bring us some leaves of it? Just three or four of these. And some hot water too." He paused. "Oh, and also an empty pitcher, and six small transparent glasses. Or white saucers, please."

"Uh... yes, if you want..." she replied a bit stupidly, this time totally at a loss as to what he intended to do with all that.

"Oh, and a few more things, please," he added before she went back to the counter. "A lemon, vinegar, a small piece of soap, and some baking soda... I think that will do. Oh, no, ash lye too, please!"

Not trying to understand anymore, Victoria went to fetch what he asked for. _All right... If that's what you need for... for whatever it is you want to do..._

Diego then turned to Araceli:

"Señora, would you by any chance have smelling salts with you?"

"No I don't," she retorted sounding a little bit... offended? "I certainly don't have a habit of fainting..." she added a bit coolly.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply... I didn't... Well, doesn't matter."

And while Diego started talking to Leonor, explaining her God knows what, Araceli got up and walked to the counter to pay for her drinks.

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"Your daughter is quite a peculiar cute little girl," Victoria told Señora Valdès, "she isn't eagerly waiting to get married to her prince charming or her knight in shining armour..." she elaborated with a slightly sad note in her voice.

"Yes, what a relief it is, isn't it?" Araceli answered, unaware of Victoria's previous tone. "I've managed to make my daughter less stupid than I was when I was her age... She thinks about a whole lot of things other than marriage, weddings and things like that."

"You make her lack of interest for it sound like a quality..." Victoria said, very puzzled, "and you talk about marriage as though it were a bad thing."

"I didn't say it's... _bad_ ," Araceli objected, "but it's just a strange and uncomfortable institution... Impractical and unreasonable."

"Impractical...? Uncomfortable...? That's the first time ever I hear such an opinion. I believe that it is on the contrary a very noble and wonderful institution, if done with the right person!"

Araceli pulled an unbelieving and unconvinced face.

"For instance," Victoria went on, lowering her voice, "I am... uh... _interested_ in a wonderful man, and if I ever marry him, it will be the happiest day of my life..."

With her bright smile and the dreamy look in her eyes, Victoria didn't notice Doña Araceli's suddenly subdued look and her slightly slumped bearing.

_A wonderful man indeed,_ Araceli thought... but she wouldn't have thought it was _that_ serious. She knew that Alejandro might be the marrying type, somehow, but still... On the other hand, the señorita did seem still unsure of this ever happening, so was Alejandro even aware of her very serious expectations?

_Anyway,_ Araceli told herself, forcibly sweeping that thought aside, _this was none of her business after all, right?_ It was not as though she and Alejandro weren't over, as though he was still her lover, her beau, her sweetheart. Her man. So whatever; as long as Leonor didn't have to suffer from this new situation...

Ow, this sour taste came back full force in her mouth and even slightly burned her insides... She really should have a word with Señorita Escalante about her wine some time soon, but now was not the time.

She smiled sweetly at the taverness:

"You have on marriage the view that many still unmarried people have... The romantic, idealistic image it has, and would I say... mushy notions around it, a still childish conception of it – no offense intended, Señorita."

"Oh but, in our case, it's different!" Victoria exclaimed, a bit on the defensive.

Araceli smiled indulgently at her.

"Do you know what marriage is Señorita? What it really is?"

Victoria looked at her, surprised, but she didn't say anything.

"You meet a man who is to your liking, who sets your heart aflutter, whom you have dreams about, whom you're attracted to; you want him and you finally obtain him: you marry him. And then marriage begins. At first everything is a bed of roses. You look at life through rose tinted glasses. Everything he says is wonderful. Everything he does is wonderful, even his blunders. Anyway, what the two of you have feels so strong, it can't be otherwise. Others may fail in their love stories or in their married life, but not the two of you: he and you, it's different of course... It won't be the same!"

She paused. But as she saw that Victoria was listening intently, so she went on:

"You wake up in the morning and your husband is there, you see his beautiful face first thing in the morning. You eat lunch, he's still there, right in front of you. At siesta he's there too. And at dinner, you still see his face across the table. And at bedtime it's the last thing you see before going to sleep. And the morning after at dawn, he's still there. And at lunch, at siesta, at dinner, and at bedtime again. On Monday, on Tuesday. Week after week. In January, in April... In Spring, in Fall. Year after year. And little by little, one day you just cannot stand the sight of this face anymore, however beautiful, however gorgeous: these things don't matter anymore. The magic is dead, killed by everyday life. You've just been satiated, replete with the sight of this face. And after one or two years, you just realise that the two of you don't have anything left to tell each other. That you have hardly any interests in common. That you got totally besotted with a total stranger, over just a few details, over the very little time you spent with him before deciding he was the right one, the love of your life..."

Another pause. Victoria was looking at her both slightly offended and... _sorry?_

"And then you realise..." Araceli said. "You realise that you married someone you didn't know much about: you didn't know what he likes in life, what he likes to do in his free time, what he likes to idly chat about, how he envisions child rearing, what his parenting principles are, who his close friends are, what his life is like, what his plans for the future are – beside marriage and children, that is – what he plans to do with your dowry, what sort of books he likes to read, where he wants to live after a few years..."

This time, Victoria was clearly frowning.

"But once you realise that, you also realise that it's too late. That you're already married to each other, until death do you part. That there is no going back. No way back or out. That you're tied together. That you're condemned to watch his face every day, and that he is condemned to watch yours. Because he too has realised that he didn't love you forever, for the rest of his life. That he too is trapped, poor man. The two of you just handed yourselves over bound and gagged... And you also realise that considering life expectancy, there is a chance you're in for a good forty years of this life... A lifetime. A real waste of a lifetime! Just because of an error in judgement! Of an untimely youthful mistake!"

_Wow, this woman's marriage and married life must have been quite a failure!_ Victoria thought. How sad for her... and for her late husband of course! Poor Doña Araceli, she had such a dim view on marriage! Probably why she turned Don Alejandro down, if what Don Diego said earlier was true. _But for me and Zorro it won't be the same! It's totally different! We're diff–_

She stopped dead: wasn't it precisely the exact words, the exact sentence Señora Valdès had just used about what she and her husband thought of their love story at first? Ow, she dispelled this unpleasant thought: hers and Zorro's relationship _was_ different... right? She wasn't just... blinded by his qualities, was she?

No, she decided. She truly loved him... or, well, what she knew of him. But a question insidiously wormed its way through her troubled mind: what did he indeed like to do in his free time? How did he spend it?

And what did he like to idly chat about, when not discussing the alcalde or his plans?

He wanted children, but what were indeed his parenting principles? How did he envision child-rearing?

Oh, talking about that... She made a mental note to ask Don Diego these questions when she finally talks to him. But for now he was still with Leonor, she wasn't going to disturb them... As long as he was still there and didn't leave...


	46. Ch 46 - Experimenting

While Victoria and Araceli were talking at the counter, Diego was furthering his budding relationship with his sister.

"Now, Leonor," Diego told her, "you will help me, will you?"

"Oh si, si! Of course!"

"Good: take these leaves of red cabbage and cut them in small piece with this knife... Yes, just like that, perfect."

She beamed at him.

"And when you're done, put them in this empty pitcher."

She did as instructed.

"And now, look: I will pour this hot water on the cabbage."

And when he was done, he took a spoon to stir the mixture.

"It's just like cooking!" Leonor said happily.

"It's exactly that," Diego answered. "Let's leave it infuse for a few minutes."

In the meantime, he prepared a small glass with an ounce of vinegar, in another one he pressed the lemon to obtain roughly the same amount of lemon juice, in a third one he poured an ounce of water; same with two more glasses; but in one of these he added a spoonful of baking soda and stirred to make it dissolve. In the next one he put a few chips of soap that he had peeled with his knife. Finally, he poured roughly one ounce of ash lye in a sixth glass.

"Now we're going to filter the cabbage juice," Diego told Leonor. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket, unfolded it and put it over the now empty first pitcher.

"And now, Leonor, please put your hands around the neck of the jug to hold the handkerchief and prevent it from falling inside."

Then he took the pitcher with the mix of cabbage and water and slowly poured it on the handkerchief, the liquid filtering through the thin material.

"Alright Leonor, thank you. Now what colour is this cabbage juice?"

"Uh... purple? Dark violet?" she answered.

He just nodded.

"And now, what colour are these liquids here?" Diego asked, pointing at the six glasses in front of them.

"Hmm... this one," she said, looking at the vinegar, "uh... light brown?"

Diego then pointed at the lemon juice.

"Uh... not totally transparent, a bit... whitish...? But mainly... water-white."

" _Colourless_ is the word," Diego corrected. "And here?" he asked.

"Well, it's just water, so of course it doesn't have any colour. Colourless, then."

He nodded again.

"This one is like the lemon juice," she stated, pointing at the soapy water. "Half-whitish, half-transparent and colourless."

She then looked at the baking soda dissolved in water.

"That one too is colourless. As well as this one," she added, pointing at the ash lye.

"Exact," Diego said. "Be very careful, don't touch that last one, it can be dangerous; it can burn your skin. And above all, do NOT drink it!" he added.

"It's poison?"

"Yes, in a way. Yes it is. So, light-brownish, whitish colourless, colourless, whitish colourless, colourless, and colourless." Diego summed up. "Now according to you, if we pour the purple cabbage juice in each of them, what colour will it be?"

"Well, it will be light purple with the colourless things of course!" she immediately answered. "And some ugly brownish purple with the light brown one!"

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Absolutely sure?" he insisted.

Leonor seemed to doubt a split second, but she persisted, nodding.

"What would you be ready to wager on it?" he asked teasingly.

She frowned. Diego smiled and didn't wait for her answer. He took the pitcher and poured a little bit of cabbage juice in the third glass, the one containing only water.

He stirred and Leonor watched intently as the mixture turned... light purple, just as expected.

"Ah!" she gloated, "you see!"

"I see," he answered with a smile. Now... let's try this one," he added, pointing at the baking soda. "What colour will it be?"

She shrugged.

"Well, the same!" she answered.

He raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Instead he took hold of the jug and poured some purple cabbage juice in the colourless liquid. As and when he then stirred, Leonor's eyes grew wide as the mixture turned a deep bluish green.

"Oh, how do you do that?" she marvelled.

He smiled wider.

"Now, which one next?" he simply asked.

She played 'eeny meeny miny moe' and pointed at the lemon juice.

When Leonor stirred, her jaw dropped as the liquid turned bright pink.

She giggled, and pointed at the soap. It foamed a bit when she stirred and the mixture turned blue. Leonor put her spoon down and clapped her hands.

"This one, this one," she said eagerly, pointing at the brownish vinegar: it became reddish orange! She laughed, delighted.

"And now the last one," Diego told her.

He poured the same amount of red cabbage juice in the ash lye and when he stirred, the colour gradually changed to a light yellowish green. Or greenish yellow.

"So, Leonor, what do you conclude of this?" Diego asked.

"I conclude that things are not always like they appear to be," she said unexpectedly.

Diego looked at her, a bit surprised.

"That is quite a philosophic answer, Leonor. But you are right. A same simple thing like red cabbage juice can be either purple, red, blue or green. Depends on the medium. Just like a same person can behave differently depending on the situations..."

"I don't understand," Leonor told him.

He smiled.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, "one day you will. When you're older. But for the moment, do you want to make all these liquids turn to purple again?"

Her eyes grew wide again.

"You can do that?" she asked in an unbelieving tone.

"I can," he simply answered.

Then he took his own now empty glass and poured all the mixtures in it. When he stirred the resulting mix, it nearly reverted to its initial purple colour, just a little bit bluer than before. A very delighted little girl clapped her hands at her big brother's achievement.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

When would this woman leave him alone, really? Victoria was growing impatient: she needed to talk to Don Diego privately, but Señora Valdès seemed to be glued to his table. Well, truth be told, it was rather _her_ table, since she had been there before him, but still... And why was _he_ glued to it? ...to _her?_ Honestly...!

"And now look," Leonor told her and Sergeant Mendoza, who had finally turned up in the tavern, "I will add the violet juice to the whitish soap..."

The girl had come to the funny kind sergeant who was having a drink at the counter to thank him for arresting the 'mean señor' – "oh but, Señorita, I wasn't alone!" – and to show him the 'trick' that Diego had just taught her.

Victoria was distractedly looking at it, while watching Don Diego and Doña Araceli out of the corner of her eye.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"I see you have finally won over Leonor's approval," Araceli told Diego.

"Yes, well, nothing is definitive yet," he qualified, "especially with children, but yes, at least she doesn't hold my height against me anymore. Thanks to you and the good principles you're giving her, it seems."

"Oh, thank you Don Diego. I do what I can, but I must admit I'm not alone: Concepcion has her part in it too, you know..."

"I'm sure you're being too modest here, Señora. But anyway, and thanks to your goodwill, she seems not to be afraid or too shy around me anymore. Not only that: in fact she even more or less proposed marriage to me," he added with a chuckle.

Araceli choked on her drink.

"WHAT!?"

"Well, in fact," he said with an amused smile, "it was less _asking_ me than simply _deciding_ that we would get married when she's older..."

"Oh no..." she sighed, sounding appalled.

"Well, your enthusiasm at the idea of having me as your son-in-law really warms my heart!" Diego told her teasingly, with just the same twinkle as his father's in his eyes.

"Wha–? Oh! Oh no!" she hastily corrected once she realised how he interpreted what she just said, "No no, it's not that! I mean–"

"I know what you meant, Señora, don't worry." He smiled again.

"I do my best to avoid that she follows in the footsteps of the foolish girl I was when I was younger," Araceli explained, "but it seems I've failed. I really thought she wasn't thinking about such things as marriage or finding a husband, you know... She shouldn't be."

"Well," Diego said, "in that case, rest assured: she clearly isn't. Once I explained her that siblings didn't marry each other, she just decided she'd pass..."

"I prefer that," Araceli sighed in relief.

"But..." Diego remarked, "if she doesn't marry later... what will she do? How will she provide for her living?"

"Well," she smiled, "that's a question which is not without a certain piquancy, coming from you!"

Her retort could have seemed offensive, but her tone and the amused twinkle in her eyes said otherwise, and Diego found impossible to resent her for it: she obviously hadn't meant it to be hurtful. It had even hardly been a reproach, and he had to admit that in her eyes, idle, unmarried thirty-something Diego de la Vega who was living off his wealthy father was probably the last person who could ask that question.

He raised his glass and tilted it at her, sending her some sort of salute to acknowledge defeat, with a small smile to show her that no offense was taken: _'fair enough'_ , it seemed to mean.

"But to answer your question, she'll probably take over the San Diego branch of the company after me. If she's able to, that is. I wouldn't hand it over to someone who wouldn't know how to manage it efficiently: in the long run it would be good neither for the company and its employees, nor for Leonor herself. Too many firms or businesses have gone downhill and collapsed just because of familial stubbornness to hand over the reins only to people of the founder's blood, regardless of people's abilities or skills."

"And yet, you're running a branch of a company founded and still owned by your father... You won't make me believe that bloodline and being the patrón's daughter didn't play a part in that!"

"True," she acknowledged. "But my father wouldn't have entrusted me with his business if I hadn't been good at it and hadn't proven my worth before! In fact, not all my siblings are in the family business: for instance, I have a brother who's an officer in the navy: he's a wonderful sailor, but totally inept at anything trade-related. And one of my sisters couldn't even understand a page of an account book, so she married a landowner – just like I did in the past – and she quietly doesn't do anything else than being his wife. Just like I did. Except that it suits her, so there's nothing to say. And another one of my brothers is a physician, and thankfully for his patients he is far better at understanding anatomy than at managing any kind of business!"

"How many siblings do you have?" Diego asked.

"We were nine," she answered his question, "but only seven of us reached adulthood. And only four of us are working for the Company."

"And you hope for Leonor to take it over after you, at least for the San Diego affiliate..."

"Yes," Araceli replied. "But only if she has the required skills for it, that is..."

"And if she hasn't?" Diego asked, with a note of... was it _defiance?_

It gave Araceli much to think about.

"What if she finally proves not to have any of the skills and abilities you expect from her?" Diego further asked. "Of the qualities that usually run in your family? What if she doesn't live up to the expectations you have for her?"

Araceli looked at him intently, and a sympathetic expression finally fell over her features.

After a split second of hesitation at the forward gesture toward a near stranger, on a rare impulse she reached over the table and with the tip of her fingers she took his hand and squeezed it lightly.

"He loves you, you know," she simply told him in a lower voice, looking him straight in the eyes.

 _Am I that transparent?_ Diego wondered. Yes, she had understood that his concerns weren't really about Leonor's future relationship with her mother... He sighed inwardly at the unpleasant sensation of feeling momentary like an open book to Señora Ximénez de Valdès. It made him feel... naked. And he didn't like it.

Araceli dispelled the awkward moment by quickly letting go of his hand and removing hers to help herself with some more lemonade from the jug: serious talks and nervousness was making her thirsty, she noted.

Diego thought fitting to change subject: he took out a piece of paper from his pocket and with a slightly trembling hand he gave it to Doña Araceli.

"Señora," he said quietly after clearing his voice, "on my way from home I came across El Zorro, and he gave me this note for you, telling me to ask you whether these names evoked something to you. He said these were the men Ortega named as his accomplices in Leonor's abduction..."

Araceli's eyes grew wide, but she managed to keep her voice low when she asked him:

"And you've waited until now to tell me that? Why didn't you do it as soon as you entered the tavern?"

"I... I couldn't bring up the subject in Leonor's presence... Or Father's, you know how he is... I was waiting to be alone with you."

Oh yes. Made sense, Araceli thought approvingly. Silently, she unfolded the note and read the names on it.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Whoa, whoa, I must be dreaming! She is taking his hand! Why doesn't he withdraw his? Oh my God, they are holding hands, here, right in the middle of my tavern! The nerve of this woman!_

Victoria couldn't believe what she was seeing out of the corner of her eye. Against her better judgement she fully turned her head to watch them: that woman just told him something, but Victoria was too far to be able to hear them. She suddenly regretted not having Felipe's ability to easily read lips, all the more so that it vaguely seemed to her that Doña Araceli's lips said something that really, really looked like _'love you'_... Oh my God!

Why wasn't Don Diego reacting? Why wasn't he telling her anything, telling her that they hardly knew each other, that she was or had been his father's mistress, that his affections were otherwise enga–

Oh, Señora Valdès finally removed her hand and he was now reaching inside his breast pocket... taking a paper out of it... and handing it to her? Oh, he had written a letter for her!? What did he think he was doing!

And now this woman's eyes were growing wide... What did he just tell her?

What was on this paper...? A declaration? Or...

Or had he written a _poem_ for her?

Victoria couldn't help herself: she grabbed the first bottle within reach and pretended to have something to do a few tables from them. When she was within earshot, she clearly heard what he told Doña Araceli before she unfolded his letter to read it, and it made alarm bells ring inside Victoria's mind:

"I... I couldn't bring up the subject in Leonor's presence... Or Father's, you know how he is... I was waiting to be alone with you."


	47. Ch 47 - Indecent proposal

"Before you go, Don Diego, may I have a word with you?"

"Yes of course, if you want, Victoria. What is it?"

"Uh... it's a bit... delicate. I'd rather have this conversation in private... Would you follow me, please?"

She pulled aside the curtain separating the tavern's main room from the kitchen and stepped through the threshold, Diego in tow.

She looked awkwardly at him, but seemed not to see him, lost in her thoughts as she was. In the quiet of the room, the background noise from the other side seemed to bother her and she frowned. When someone pulled the curtain to the side to ask her for a bowl of soup, she seemed to decide that the kitchen wasn't private enough nor quiet enough a place for the conversation she intended to have.

But she couldn't have this talk in a scullery, between crates of foodstuffs! She took a bunch of keys out of her apron's pocket, detached one of these and handed it to him.

"Go to room number four. It communicates with room number five. I'll join you there in five or ten minutes..."

He looked at the key, completely puzzled, and then at her. She could see a giant question mark painted all over his face. She was still weighing whether or not asking him, considering his newfound... closeness with Doña Araceli. But, she reflected, it wouldn't be about starting a relationship with him, a _romantic_ relationship, no: this wasn't a matter of love, but a matter of family and friendship and esteem, and... well, of physicality of course, she thought with some awkwardness.

Not that Don Diego wasn't an attractive man, no... quite the contrary, come to think of that... but the idea of 'going to bed' with a childhood friend and family friend whom she had known forever and never considered _that way_ felt very strange. That was, if ever he said yes of course! Which wasn't sure at all; and all the less so with Señora Valdès's obvious overtures now in the picture!

Just because of that, Victoria knew she had to act now. Now or never!

Strangely, she didn't see there any contradiction with her earlier resolution and lifelong principle of never messing with another woman's man. And after all, Señora Valdès wasn't really anything to him yet, and she couldn't ever be his sweetheart, his ladylove or his mistress: she was his sister's mother, for crying out loud! His father's former lover! Nothing would ever be possible between those two!

Really, someone had to act to make this stop, to nip this impossible romance, this passing idyll in the bud. And apparently fate had chosen _her_ , Victoria Escalante, to be that someone.

But she pushed aside any thought of Doña Araceli and focused on her own situation. On her design. On the matter at hand. On Don Diego, who was waiting upstairs, with no idea yet of what she wanted to discuss with him.

After a good five minutes of pondering, of still hesitating, and of rehearsing what she was going to say, she gathered her courage and climbed the stairs. She entered room number five, grabbed the chair, opened the communicating door and then entered Don Diego's room.

Silently, she sat down at the small table and gestured for Diego to take a seat across from her.

After a long, a very long and thick silence, she finally told him:

"Don Diego, you seem to get on well with young Señorita Leonor... You're very good with children. Doesn't it... didn't it... give you some ideas? Ideas about... about children of your own..."

 _Oh,_ Diego thought. _She_ of all people was asking him that question... How ironic, he reflected rather bitterly.

" _Ideas_ are not sufficient in that matter, Victoria. As you surely know as well as I do, and–"

"I certainly do," she cut him short. "Painfully so," she added with a small sigh. "And as a matter of fact..."

She stopped, not knowing how to go on with her very uncommon proposition.

"As a matter of fact", she resumed speaking, "and for my part... I'm thinking about it... To tell you the truth, I've been thinking about it more and more as of late."

She barely dared look him in the eyes but forced herself to do so, and her boldness was rewarded by the sight of Don Diego's eyes widening while looking at her.

"Did... Has..." he began, stammering a bit out of either surprise or hesitation at brushing such a topic, "did Zorro do anything that might make you think that... that he... that he might...Did he give you any indication that he thought his fight might be over soon? Because I don't think it is, as much as it pains me to say so."

Diego was perplexed: he didn't give her to understand that he might remove the mask in a near future, did he?

"No, he didn't," she confirmed. "That's not that."

She let out a heavy sigh, and more than ever Diego became fully aware of how much it weighed on her, of how much _he_ had been making this unsure and unending situation weigh on her. Had he been right to do so? To hold her back from her future? From what should be her _present?_ From spreading her wings, leaving the ground, taking off and going on with her life? Shouldn't he rather have let her marry Juan Ortiz? Hadn't he been very selfish in keeping her invisibly and virtually tied to him, tightening the knots by dint of renewed promises each time he felt the ties were vaguely loosening? _Barren_ promises for a faraway and undefined hypothetical future...

"It's not that," Victoria repeated. "So that's precisely that," she added, as though these simple words were explaining everything.

Except that, on the contrary, it didn't explain anything in poor Diego's mind: _'Uh...?'_ was all it prompted in him.

"There's no end to his fight in a foreseeable future, and I'm starting to think there won't ever be any. But I... I don't want to let my life just... go by, you know, and not... not try to fulfil my other wishes and dreams... other than _him_ , I mean. I... I'm not anymore the child I was a few years ago when he first appeared, I have... matured, and... he isn't my only dream anymore; I wish not only for him, but... but for other things too. Not really _wish_ , in fact, but rather _yearn_... And I finally realised that I could have these even if I don't have _him_... Even if I don't have him _fully_ and _permanently_ , I mean."

Diego frowned. Then... then... If Victoria didn't think an imminent public removing of the mask was possible... then... then why was she telling him...

"Did Zorro show any sign that... Did he do or say anything that you interpreted as... that you understood as... as... _overtures_..."

He didn't try anything, though! Quite the contrary in fact: he rather fled from... uh... her... uh... _forwardness_. Her very amorous advances. When did he do or say something she had misinterpreted? Well, of course there was still this embarrassing episode with his... _ahem_... his 'very personal endowment' showing its appreciation of her regardless of his consent, but surely...

And she certainly couldn't mistake Zorro's earlier hasty flight from her bedroom for overtures! So why was she telling him this? Why was she hinting at a sudden possibility to... well, she was clearly talking about having children of her own, wasn't she?

Of her own, yes, but certainly not _on_ her own. And yet Zorro wasn't about to stop being needed and to fulfil the promise he made her years ago... So why now? What happened that prompted that in her? What happened that made her think she could finally start a family?

And most of all, why did she feel fitting to have this conversation _with him?_ Why the need to tell _him_ that?

Dread suddenly made his blood run cold: could it be that she suspected anything? Did something make her finally guess her hero's identity? _Oh Dios!_

He eyed her a bit apprehensively. Hmm... She looked... rather... embarrassed. Not smug. Not hopeful. Not annoyed. Not cross. Not vexed...

 _Awkward_. Yes, she looked awkward. Unsure. A bit hesitant...

Yes, _embarrassed_.

But if she hadn't made him come upstairs to confront him privately about being Zorro and sort this situation out, either by asking him to fulfil his promise or more probably by breaking up once and for all since she couldn't love plain and dull Diego de la Vega, then why? Why this summon, and why this need for discretion and privacy if not about Zorro's true identity?

"I'm sure that deep down, a part of you understands my feeling," she told him. "I'm sure that, regardless of your father's nagging about grandchildren, and people's general opinion about your bachelorhood notwithstanding, a part of you wishes to be a father..."

She saw... something, in his eyes. It confirmed her opinion that she indeed struck a chord in Don Diego. He might play the part of the unconcerned idler, detached from earthly concerns such as fulfilling societies' expectations, somewhere deep inside he wished for children, even if not for a wife.

She waited for him to say something but he kept silent, looking at her in a rather puzzled manner. And to be frank, a bit _stupidly_. Stunned at being discovered? At feeling laid bare?

Since he didn't either confirm or deny, she resumed talking:

"Even if... even if you don't have your children with the woman you love... do you think it would be that bad an idea to have one with... with someone you trust and get along with...? With someone you appreciate and esteem – at least I hope so. With someone you like, even if of course you are not in love with her?"

She paused again.

He was still at a loss. What was she trying to get at? What was her point? Was she trying to play matchmaker for him? Did his father ask her to? Did a female friend of hers ask her to match him up with her, or at least to test the waters on his part...?

Confronted with his silence, which wasn't helping make her comfortable at all, she dared go on in a small little voice, a murmur hardly above a whisper:

"Because _I_ , for my part, have been considering this possibility lately. _Seriously_ considering it, and weighing up the pros and cons of it..."

 _What!?_ Diego was surprised. So _this_ was what the other night's attempt of seduction had been about? Cornering Zorro into paternity and fatherhood? Into unmasking, at least for her eyes only, and then making whoever was under this mask out to be some casual lover? Just a man who just filled the loneliness of her life in a moment of lustful folly from her part...?

But since it didn't work, and since she wasn't suspecting of his double identity, why was she telling _him_ about all this?

Probably assessing what would be his and his father's reaction to an unexpected pregnancy of their still single family friend... Which meant she hadn't given up the thought...

"I have thought about it a lot," she was now saying, tearing him from his deep thoughts, "and I have come to the conclusion that... that..."

She paused again.

"...that there is only a handful of male friends I could trust enough to... to be a good father... and without being a nuisance to me... and whom I'd feel comfortable enough with to... uh..."

Her voice died before the end of her sentence, with her reddened face hung down and her eyes fixing the moth-eaten wood of the small table.

Diego was still trying to process her words and more than ever wondering where on earth she was trying to drive at when she resolutely raised her head, stared at him right in the eyes, cleared her throat, took the bull by the horns and ventured in a forcibly assured voice, with much more self-assurance than she was truly feeling:

"Don Diego, would you accept to give me a child?"

... ... ...

_...WHAT !?_


	48. Ch 48 - Stalemate and checkmate

Araceli had finally driven back to the hacienda alone in her carriage, but with Felipe riding alongside her with a delighted Leonor in the saddle with him, pretending she was steering his horse herself. The moment Felipe agreed to take her with him on the way back home – _'only_ _if your mother agrees for you to, of course',_ he managed to make her understand through signs – he knew he gained a new friend.

Once they arrived, the child was handed over to his good care while Concepcion helped her mistress freshen up and change into a clean chemise and a less dusty dress, after this afternoon in town. When Don Alejandro finally came back from the pueblo he found the young boy and his daughter enthusiastically engaged in a game of chess in the library while Araceli was writing letters, quietly settled at the table in the sala.

Seeing that she was frowning a bit in doing so, he enquired, pointing at the sheet of paper:

"Any problem?"

"Hmm? Oh, you're back? Hum, no... Well... yes, but nothing too serious I hope. I'm writing a complain to one of my suppliers in Madeira: usually his wine is excellent, but it seems that at least one barrel or a few bottles of his latest shipment has gone sour, so I'd like him to check his stock and to tell me if other customers of his were met with the same problem, in order to know whether it's an isolated problem or a wider one..."

"And make the most of this incident to renegotiate your price...?" Don Alejandro asked with a wink and a knowing smile.

"No Alejandro, I'm not a shark, please don't have such a dim view of me and of my business!" she told him. "An incident can happen from time to time, and he has always been a good supplier, making good products and trading fairly. I don't want to set bad blood in our commercial relationship: I'll just bring the matter to his attention so that he can identify the cause of this problem and rectify it, and he'll probably make a goodwill gesture in compensation for the inconvenience, just like I will do to my buyers..."

"And why are you doing this now? Don't tell me the news from San Diego already reached you, you arrived only three days ago!"

"As a matter of fact, I noticed this here in Los Angeles. Thanks to your taverness... Did you know I'm also a supplier for her tavern? I recognised 'my' Madeira the first time I drank it, and I searched my mind... and then I remembered the name Escalante. One of my small clients. Buys a few wines from the Ximénez Company. Among which this excellent Madeira. Excellent until today: this afternoon, the one she served me tasted... a bit more acrid, I found..."

"Oh yes? She generally has good products, though..." Alejandro said.

"I certainly hope you'd say so: I supply her with some of her wines!" Araceli retorted. "Hence my surprise at this one's taste: I must report it to the producer. And apologise to Señorita Escalante, of course..."

"She didn't tell me you were one of her wholesaler..."

"She probably hasn't made the connection yet. After all, I've come here on private business, and not on behalf of the Ximénez Company." She paused. "How... How is she taking the news...? About Leonor, I mean. And about you and me... our past... relationship? She didn't know, did she? And above all, what does she think of Leonor?"

"I think she's under her spell," he answered. "How could anyone not be?" the proud and blinded father in him rhetorically asked. "Of course the news was a bit shocking to her, just as to every Los Angelinos, but... she's indulgent. She's a kind soul and very great-hearted, you know."

Strangely, Alejandro's answer didn't seem to lighten her mood: of course it was good for Leonor that Señorita Escalante accepted her so benevolently but, without Araceli being able to put her finger on why exactly, it made something tickle rather unpleasantly in her guts. And even higher up in her chest. _Bah!_ she thought, she probably was just feeling a slightly bit unwell today, and that was all. She was happy that Alejandro was interested in a good and kind woman who wouldn't be a nuisance towards Leonor and who would accept his past. Yes, really, she was truly glad for him!

_Yes, truly!_

Or at least she felt relieved on her daughter's behalf, and reassured as far as Leonor's happiness and well-being was concerned.

Then, a cry of victory could be heard, coming from the library. A few seconds later, the little girl came bouncing from there and rushed to her mother.

"Mamá! Mamá! I won! I beat him! The young señor who doesn't speak, I beat him! I won!"

"He has a name, mi amor," Alejandro corrected her. " _Felipe_. He's called _Felipe_. It is not respectful or very polite towards him to refer to him otherwise."

She nodded a bit. Then:

"But why doesn't he speak, Papá?

"Because he is deaf," Alejandro explained. "He cannot hear."

"Can't hear anything?" Leonor asked, surprised and seeking a confirmation.

"No, nothing, unfortunately," her father provided. "He is deaf and mute. That's why he doesn't speak either."

She seemed to mull over this piece of information, frowning a bit. Meanwhile, Felipe entered the sala, coming from the library.

"But then... then if he doesn't hear anything, why is it not polite to call him–"

"Leonor!" her mother cut in, "remember what I told you about speaking about people behind their back?"

The girl seemed to ponder this.

"Si Mamá," she said, searching her mind, "...it is disrespectful even though they can't hear it, especially _because_ they can't hear it..." Leonor recited a bit contrite.

"Precisely," Araceli said. "And here it is the same." Then she turned her face to Felipe and slowly told him, taking care of clearly articulating:

"I apologise on my daughter's behalf, young man. Please forgive her young age and her child's naivety."

Felipe smiled his forgiveness: the issue was over.

The girl then resumed gloating:

"Mamá, Papá, I won! I defeated Felipe at the game of chess!"

"Did you really?" Alejandro asked, surprised.

He arched an eyebrow at Felipe, who made the most innocent face he could, immediately followed by a knowing smile. Alejandro winked at him and told Leonor:

"Congratulations, mi cariño, Felipe is the best chess player I know."

Again, Alejandro arched an eyebrow at the young man and then mouthed at him: _in the long run, you're doing her a disservice by letting her win._

But Felipe smiled again and shrugged almost imperceptibly: _oh, come on,_ it seemed to mean, _it's just this one time!_

Then he patted the child's head and left the room, heading to the courtyard.

"It seems Leonor has just conquered another supporter here in Los Angeles, after Sergeant Mendoza and Victoria..." Alejandro commented.

Araceli smiled. A slightly strained smile, though.

"Mamá..." the girl asked, pulling a face, "Felipe isn't my sibling too, is he?"

"What?!" her mother exclaimed, puzzled at the question. "No mi gatita, no he isn't. Unless Papá forgot to tell us all something..." she added, throwing a mischievous look at Alejandro.

"What?!" he echoed, surprised. "NO! No of course not, no!"

"Easy Alejandro, take it easy!" she told him with a chuckle. "Just some gentle teasing here..."

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help an amused smile. He then turned to his daughter and confirmed:

"No, Cariño, Felipe isn't your brother."

"Thank goodness!" the child exclaimed, visibly relieved.

"LEONOR!" Araceli reprimanded her, "This is not very kind! And it's not his fault that he is handicapped! He needs our help and understanding rather than our contempt and rejection."

The child looked rather puzzled at this rebuke, seeming not to fully understand why she was at the receiving end of it, to begin with.

"Si Mamá," she replied sounding a bit surprised, "but that's still great that he is not my brother, because in that case, I can marry him when I'm older!"

This unexpected announcement was met with a stunned silence at first, immediately followed by a resounding double _"...WHAT?!"_


	49. Ch 49 - Yes or no?

_WHAT...?!_

Diego was stunned. Speechless.

_A child?_

_Victoria?_

_Him?_

_HIM?!_

He didn't see that one coming. At all.

Victoria wanted a child. _Now_. And she just asked _him_ to father this child. Him, _Diego._

 _Diego_ and not _Zorro_.

That was most unexpected. Disconcerting. Astounding.

Shocking, too.

Having a child out of wedlock, and for all the pueblo to see...? That was... daring, to say the least.

Brave. Audacious.

Rash. Unconsidered.

Or just brazen.

Courageous, anyway. And bold as brass.

In short, very much Escalante-like.

Very much Victoria. _His_ Victoria. The one he liked, the one he had fallen in love with.

But still. It was not the done thing, and she couldn't just ignore or disregard that. So what had suddenly gotten into her? Was Zorro's rejection of her advances what had prompted this in her, like some need to reassure herself as to her charm and her womanliness?

"Don Diego..." Victoria said tentatively. "...Don Diego..." she repeated in a murmur, "...please say something," she breathed barely above a whisper.

But in the total and stunned silence of the bedroom they were in, her murmurs resounded like shouts.

"Victoria..." he finally let out. "Victoria, you... you can't be serious... You can't be serious, can you?"

Her shoulders slumped a bit.

"I know... I know it comes a bit out of the blue, Don Diego..." she said, "but... I assure you I've thought about it. It may seem sudden to you, but... the idea of becoming a mother has been in a recess of my mind for quite some time now..."

Diego eyed her intently with an unreadable expression but didn't say anything. She went on:

"I know it's unexpected, I know I'm taking you by surprise in asking you this without warning... off the cuff, so to speak, but I have thought it over very seriously, you'll see."

He raised an eyebrow, appearing to doubt her words.

"Are you sure you did?" he finally asked her. "You might think so, but what of this child's future once he's born?"

" _He_... or _she_ ," Victoria corrected. "And yes, I have thought about it too. Or else I would have asked just any man around there, preferably a traveller I would never see again."

Diego pulled a face at the idea.

"But no," she said. "That's why I told you about... about finding someone who would be good and decent man... and even a _father_ , if he wants to... _Only_ if he wants to, I mean... If you don't feel like... having that kind of responsibility, that's fine with me too, I wouldn't pester you to... to take care of my child if you don't want to, or don't feel up to... I– I don't want to force anyone into paternity, especially a friend I respect, I just– I just want to be a mother, Don Diego... and I honestly believe I would make a good one. Even with a questionable reputation in other people's eyes... I'm up to stand up for my child, to fight tooth and nail for him or her... I swear! I just want to be a mother, Don Diego..." she repeated. "Just like anyone..."

She didn't add 'please', but the idea was clearly in her pleading voice.

"I wouldn't... I couldn't abandon, deny, discard or ignore a child of mine, Victoria, I couldn't do something like that, it would be beyond me... Just like it would have been beyond my father's strength to deny paternity of Leono–"

Diego stopped dead.

So _that_ was what had triggered all this! That was where it all came from! _Leonor!_ _His father!_ Leonor and his father... Which inevitably led Diego's thoughts to _Doña Araceli_ and his father...

Doña Araceli, his father and Leonor... A strange little family... but a family all the same, he had to finally acknowledge that. And _this_ was what Victoria was yearning for...? A scandal...? An 'out-of-wedlock' situation for everyone to know of, in such a narrow and conventional rural community?

Had she gone insane?

The picture of Leonor seated between her mother and his – _her!_ – father came back to the forefront of his mind... Of course for no love or money either Doña Araceli or his father would now go back in time and create a future where Leonor wouldn't exist... They preferred facing the scandal and the public scorn, let it wash over them, and love and raise their daughter...

He sighed inwardly: what a mess this woman's arrival had created in Los Angeles in general, and in his own life in particular!

And yet... yet he was still glad to know Leonor and finally happy to have a baby sister... He was starting to like her, and to like this idea. Against his better judgement!

He sighed again, this time more visibly. Victoria then spoke again:

"Before you say no once and for all, Don Diego, please listen to me: I earn a good income, I'm hard-working, and I own a thriving business that is _de facto_ a sort of monopoly here in Los Angeles, and of which my child – if I ever have one – will one day inherit. It will be a good life for him or her. A life of hard work, but a good life."

When she pronounced the words 'hard work', she suddenly hoped the still very hypothetic child wouldn't inherit Don Diego's particular... _trait_ in that matter, in regard with his very remote relationship with anything akin to real work.

Alright, alright, it was public knowledge that Diego de la Vega was lazy and indolent, and that hard work wasn't his thing at all, but the man had many other qualities a parent would like in his children. He was honest. Kind. Gentle. Studious. Intelligent. Reliable. Truthful. Unable to lie, even if his very life depended on it. Loyal. Faithful. Big-hearted. Generous. Unselfish. Unassuming and modest despite his great knowledge and his social status. Respectful. Decent. Courteous. And not a womanizer – as far as she knew, or he had been extremely discreet about that... Oh, admittedly there had been here and there some unexplained absences and blanks in his schedule, a few suspicions in the past about some 'burning romance' of his, but no one ever found out anything about anyone. Not the kind to kiss and tell. Until recently she would even have doubted he was the kind to kiss at all, but his interaction with Señora Valdès made her reconsider.

Yes, Diego de la Vega might not be a hard-worker, a dashing hero, a skilled swordsman or the bravest man in the territory when faced with danger, but he had plenty of qualities anyway. Oh, and Leonor was right about something else too: he was also handsome, incidentally.

If only he could pass all these positive traits onto his offspring!

"Don Diego..." she said again, uncomfortable with his prolonged silence, "I know it's... shocking..."

She paused a few seconds. Then she resumed talking:

"I... I'm aware of what I am asking you... I don't want you to take the blame, I assure you... I'll tell anyone that you did the right thing, but that I refused... Unless you don't want me to, of course," she added, suddenly remembering what he told her earlier about being turned down by a woman. "But... but every one more or less knows that I am waiting for Zorro to unmask and be free, so they won't be too surprised that I declined any other man's proposal..."

"You forget what happened with Juan Ortiz..." Diego couldn't help but tell her, in a rather harsh tone.

"Well, _especially_ after the fiasco this whole business with Juan turned into, people wouldn't be surprised at my refusal..." she replied.

"So I gather you now don't plan on marrying in order to have this family you yearn for...?" Diego asked her.

"Don't worry Don Diego, I don't plan on binding you to me until death do us part... You'd still be free. Just as I would, too."

He frowned dejectedly, and she mistook this reaction for what it was not.

"Don Diego, you know of course that I am not interested in your wealth or your position...? You do know this, right? ...You... you trust my word on that, don't you...?"

He gazed at her seriously. She looked... worried, uncertain. S _ad,_ even...

He felt the urge to reassure and disabuse her on this particular point:

"Of course I know that coming from you it's not an interested request, Victoria. I know you, I know you're not after my father's money or a higher social position... I know you're not venal, Victoria. You're the exact opposite of that."

She smiled her thanks.

"And yes, I trust you," he added.

She smiled wider.

"But what you're proposing... It's... It's..."

He was looking for words. For the _right_ word. But it was failing him. Perhaps it didn't exist at all?

"...unusual, I know," Victoria provided. "Unconventional. I can see how shocking it can sound to you... But considering the... situation, it's not only my best chance to become a mother, but also the only one. And... and deep down... don't you want to be a father? Or do you want to eternally postpone it...? Telling yourself 'yes, later, it will happen later...' but in fact day after day it still doesn't happen... Don't you want to have children, Don Diego...?"

He watched her intently, with some... was it _anguish_ in his eyes?

"Or..." Victoria went on in a very little voice, "or... is it just that you don't want to have them... _with me_...?"

She closed her eyes, fighting a pang of pain and sadness in her heart, and even a small lump in her throat: coming from such a dear friend, this thought quite hurt: didn't he trust her qualities? Her abilities as far as parenting was concerned? Didn't he think she'd make a good mother to a child of his? But of course, she could understand his stance: he had never thought of her _that way_ , not to mention that the idea of what he would have to do with her in order to have these children probably put him off; or at least, this thought certainly made him very uneasy.

Of course she didn't want to force any man to... _ahem_... _well_... if he didn't want to _with her_ , and certainly not force such a good friend as Don Diego, for fear it would mar their friendship made of mutual trust and daily easy banter. She knew she should take back her request, tell him to forget about it... but some egoistical part of her prevented her from doing so: she really wanted a child and, for want of having Zorro's children, she'd like to share one with Diego de la Vega. She couldn't really explain why, but now that the idea was in the air, he was coming out in the lead on her list of potential fathers, over Sergeant Mendoza and then José Rivas.

Then another thought came to her mind:

"And if... if that's about Zorro..." she began, "then don't worry: I'll talk to him. I'll explain my point, I'll tell him you're not responsible, I'll tell him it was _my_ idea, _my_ request. That you're a good and decent man, that if anyone took advantage it's _me_... He's a good and fair man too, he won't take vengeance on you. If he resents anyone for that, it will be _me_. Or himself... Remember, he didn't do anything to Juan when I almost marry him!"

 _Zorro_... how ironic, Diego thought. But making use of his own well-known lack of bravery when it comes to confrontations and fighting might offer him a good way out of her proposition without hurting her feelings.

Diego knew he should decline her offer, turn it down, simply tell her no and forget about it... he knew it was the only proper thing to do. But... but the expectant look in her eyes tugged at his heartstrings and he didn't have the awful courage to flatly say no, to deny her what she seemed to yearn so much for... what a part of _his_ own heart and soul yearned for too, he had to admit.

Was it his one and only chance to become a father too? Was she offering his one and only chance of it ever happening?

He should say no, this was the only sensible thing to do.

"Victoria..." he started to tell her, "I'm incredibly flattered by your–"

"Don't–" she interrupted him, raising her opened hand between them as to stop his words. "Don't. Please don't say that: this is what people say when they are about to politely answer no. If you don't want to give me a child, it's your absolute right of course, but then if you're to say no, please just say no; don't try to wrap it up with sugary words or to sweet-talk your way out of it."

Diego opened his mouth to say this 'no' he knew he had to answer to her query, but instead what came out was:

"Uh... I... I... can't..."

He paused and swallowed hard. She saw him throw a strange glance beyond her and suddenly remembered where there were, and _what_ was behind her back: a bed. She mentally kicked herself for her involuntary lack of tact: she had wanted to put Don Diego at ease for this delicate conversation, had wanted him not to feel pressured, and instead of that she 'dragged' him to a bedroom and the presence of this bed a few feet away from them was like an enormous shadow hovering over their talk, like a insistent nudge – or a repellent, as may be. Perhaps he was now thinking – _fearing?_ – that she had been expecting him to carry the task out forthwith!

Oh dear! What a mess she had unknowingly made of this! Oh no, oh no, no, no, how could she fix the matter before it was too late? Before he pronounced the 'no' he was about to answer?

"I... can't decide right now," he went on. "I... need time... to think this over. Please, Victoria..."

It gave her some new hope and she had a hard time suppressing a small sigh of momentary relief.

"Of course Don Diego, of course. I know I can't ask you to give me your answer right now, you need to ponder this as much as I did..."

"Gracias Victoria," he answered, kicking himself for being so weak when faced with this woman. "Gracias. I swear I will seriously think about this possibility and about the situation. I'll give you my answer later."

"Thank you Don Diego," she replied. "But, Don Diego...?"

"Si Victoria?"

"I can't... You'll understand of course that I can't wait forever, won't you? I mean... I'm sorry to put pressure on you but... in order to know... we need a... some sort of a _deadline_ for this answer, can you understand? Please believe that I hate it to sound like an ultimatum, I hope you know it's not how I see it, but if you're not ready to have a child with me, then... then you'll understand that I'll... have to ask someone else, right?"

"Oh?" Diego asked a bit too harshly. "And, pray tell, how many other declined your offer before you asked me, if I may ask?"

Victoria looked visibly affected by his reaction, and took it rather hard.

"It's not that, Don Diego, please..." she said, looking him in the eyes. "I swear... You're my first choice, if you must know. I haven't asked anyone else yet. Please, don't be difficult about that!" she added, arching an eyebrow. "Come on, don't pout, don't sulk, it doesn't suit such a grown man as yourself!"

She smiled, and he couldn't help but mirror her smile.

So, he really was her first choice...? Well, after Zorro of course, he thought a bit sourly. But still, he was her first choice among the men whose name and face and identity she knew. It was... pleasant. He nodded by way of apology for his fit of temper.

"Ah, I prefer when you're like that!" Victoria told him with a grin. "So," she added, sobering a bit, "can we say... one month? Can you promise to give me your answer within a month?"

She was looking at him expectantly, and again, he nodded.

"Within a month," he echoed. "You have my word."


	50. Ch 50 - The sting of jealousy

_What?!_

"Mi cariño," Don Alejandro told Leonor, "that's very sweet of you but by then, Felipe will very probably already be married. To a girl his age."

"Why?" she asked, pulling a face.

"Because he'll want a family, a situation, a place in the community, children, a wife," Alejandro answered his daughter. "And because he'll love her, perhaps."

Leonor scowled.

"Couldn't he just... wait for me? Diego is old and he is not married, though..."

Leonor unknowingly pressed right where it hurt for her father. He frowned at this reminder of his son's stubborn bachelorhood, but this time it was immediately followed by the thought of his recent discovery of Diego's unexpected but probable crush on none other than Victoria Escalante. Crush or... some more serious feelings: was it what had prevented the boy from ever marrying? Alejandro had long thought it was an after-effect of his aborted wedding to this young girl back then in Spain, _Zafira_... But finally... perhaps Victoria and her hero worship of Zorro had had more to do with it than the memory of Diego's failed betrothal.

"But it is still a very long way from now!" Alejandro tried to reason his daughter. "And you have plenty of time to change your mind about it... several times, even! You'll see, you'll smile at the memory of what you said today when you're of marriageable age. But it won't be before a good ten years from now, mi cariño..."

"Twenty!" Araceli corrected.

Alejandro looked at her.

"She'll be twenty-six by then, don't you think she can expect finding a good match to make before that? That's the age you were when she was born, and–"

"And _nothing_ , Alejandro. Or do you imply that I was already 'stale' when we–"

"WHAT!? NO! No absolutely not, of course not!" he assured her, trying to rectify his faux-pas. "All right, sixteen is perhaps a bit young to take such serious decisions about one's life, and about a man, but I don't see any need to wait until twenty six if the occasion–"

"You don't really know what life is like, what it has in store for you, you haven't learned enough of your mistakes before you're about twenty-five... Even at twenty you still have much to learn, about living a life by yourself, about running a business or any other way to earn a living, about settling down, and so one..."

"What for?" Alejandro said. "She'll have a position through her marriage, through her husband's..."

Araceli made a face.

"No," she replied. "We've already had this conversation: she'll have a position by herself, whether she marries or not; I'll teach her business and I'll see if she has any skill for that. And I won't let her repeat the mistakes I made: I won't let her marry when not yet an adult, on an infatuation or a whim, on a passing fancy..."

"I know, I know, you want to protect her. I want it too."

"No Alejandro, not exactly: my greatest ambition as a mother is to help her become an adult, and to accompany and guide her on this long and bumpy road..."

"Of course, of course, and that's what every parent wants, or at least should aim to. But not to the point of preventing her from living her own life, from building a relationship with a young man her age!"

"Oh but I don't intend to prevent her from seeing boys her age," Araceli objected, "I just don't agree to let her ruin her life or her youth by taking hasty decisions that would tie her for the rest of her life! I just want to prevent her from marrying any of these boys before she's old enough to see precisely the whole picture and to know the difference between infatuation and real love."

"In other words," Alejandro retorted, "by preventing her from making the mistake you made when you were a teenager, you will have her make the same mistake you're doing in your adult life!"

"And what, pray tell, is this riddle supposed to mean?" she asked, frowning and putting her hands on her hips.

"You're afraid," he replied rather heatedly. "You're simply so convinced that your way of life is the best one that you wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face. Yes it's a highly unsettling feeling, yes it's very troubling, disquieting, and even a little bit scary, yes it's an upsetting and disturbing emotion, yes it can even be seen as an inconvenience in a perfectly regulated, settled and well-ordered life, but it's greatly worth the risk and the trouble!" Alejandro spat out at her, venting off his chest a few home truths. "I can't imagine how much more bland and colourless my life would have been without my dear wife, despite the intense and horrible ache of then losing her. And despite the immense pain that was her death, I shudder to imagine what it would have been like to have lived my life without having shared a part of it with her, if I had just chosen to go on my merry way when I met her instead of risking my heart by laying it at her feet... And the worst about this idea is that I wouldn't even know it! It was worth the risk, Araceli; it IS worth the risk when there is even a slight hope for a long and happy future together. Perhaps you too have already crossed path with the one you could have made your life with, maybe this Lieutenant Alcalá, maybe another one, but you're just too... too... obtuse and pigheaded to even consider that you could be wrong! That marriage isn't necessary what you and your late husband have experienced, have let it become, what it had gradually turned into... You're too... shut away inside your certainties, so sure that you possess the absolute Truth, living at the very top of your ivory tower like a queen sitting on her throne, so far above the rest of us, mere mortals... lesser humans with hearts and emotions..."

"What– what are you... I'm NOT thinking myself above the others!" Araceli cut him, interrupting his very long-winded rant. "I... I... What do you... For Heaven's sake, Alejandro, what's gotten into you?!" she finally shouted.

"Oh, no no no," he retorted, "don't act all offended. You–"

But he was interrupted by the loud noise of a crying child: in the middle of their heated argument, they had forgotten that the very person whose future they had been pleasantly bantering about a few minutes earlier before the discussion turned sour was still in the room, and now Leonor was crying at seeing her parents quarrel with each other.

It had at least the merit of cooling down the passions, and both father and mother went quiet and turned to their offspring.

"Please... please... please..." Leonor hiccoughed between sobs, "stop! Don't... quarrel... because... of me..."

Araceli and Alejandro exchanged a horrified and guilty look.

"I am... sorry," Leonor said further, still sniffing and sobbing. "I will... never... do it... again," she added. "I don't... know what..."she said, at a loss as to what caused this argument, but confusingly feeling it had started with her announcement about Felipe and her remark about Diego, "...but I won't... do it again..."

It took a good five minutes of cuddling, gentle words, sweet kisses from her parents as well as reassurance that it was none of her fault to get the little girl to calm down and stop sobbing and sniffing. While Araceli was dabbing at her last tears with her own embroidered handkerchief, Leonor turned her big dark eyes at her mother:

"So I did nothing wrong, really?"

Araceli and Alejandro both nodded kindly.

"So... does this mean that I still can marry Felipe when I'm a grown up if he is not already married to another one?"

Alejandro sighed: stubborn as a mule, this little one! Really, where did she get this from? Probably came from her mother's side of her ancestry, he thought. Yes, she took it after her mother, couldn't be otherwise: Araceli could be so mulish sometimes!

"Mi amor," she told her, "when you're all grown up, you can marry anyone who is neither already married nor betrothed, and doesn't already have a sweetheart. It is very bad to try to steal someone's sweetheart, always remember that."

Alejandro completed:

"And even if Felipe is not married in... let's say..." he turned to Araceli, " _fifteen_ years from now...?"

"Fifteen..." Araceli repeated, seemingly assessing his suggestion, "it would make her twenty-one years old..."

"It's a good compromise between ten years, which you find too early, and twenty which I find too long."

Araceli slowly nodded, a small smile grazing her lips.

"Well, in fifteen years from now," Alejandro said again, turning back to his daughter, "even if Felipe is not already married he will probably have a sweetheart or be in love someone else, so... I just want you not to be disappointed, mi amor, not to pin too many hopes on that... Do you understand?"

"But why should he have a sweetheart?" Leonor insisted. "It's not fair, as long as I'm not old enough!" she grumpily added, folding her arms.

"Papá didn't say that Felipe _should_ have a sweetheart, mi Tesoro," Araceli gently and patiently told her daughter, "he said that he _would_ probably have one, or be interested in someone his age. And as a matter of fact, perhaps he already is. Perhaps he's currently pinning for some nice young girl around here, or perhaps he even _has_ a sweetheart...?" she added, throwing a questioning look at Alejandro.

"No! He has no right to!" Leonor stated, stamping her foot on the ground.

"He has every right to," Araceli objected in a stern voice. "You might feel jealous about that, but it is none of his problem: it's not _his_ fault that _you_ are jealous, and he has done nothing wrong towards you. You have no right to resent him for that."

Leonor seemed to think hard about her mother's words.

"All right," she finally granted. "But I hate _her_! I'm sure she is stupid, dumb as a doorknob!"

She folded her arms again, visibly pouting. It reminded Alejandro a lot of six-or-seven-years-old Diego, when the little boy he was back then was confronted with something resisting him. He smiled at his daughter's childish resentment towards some very hypothetical young girl: children, really!

But... did Felipe have a sweetheart...? Well, he was still seeing from time to time this Indian girl they had taken in for a few days some years ago, but not as often as before... Truth be told, Alejandro didn't know whether Felipe was interested in some girl or not: he made a mental note of asking Diego that question.

He set his thoughts back on his daughter, and despite the comical side of the situation, his heart went to her: not even seven years old and already her first heartache! Of course it wasn't love, but she was already experiencing her first sting of jealousy!

...And already unfair toward competition, he thought. Well, at least he knew whom she took _this_ after, he thought half-bitter, half amused.

And once again, he plunged headfirst into his recollections of a far-ago but pleasant past...


	51. Ch 51 - The bone of contention

_Two months after his previous trip to San Diego, Alejandro took that road again, proudly mounting his new favourite horse, Dulcinea._

_After the rather tiring two days ride, he happily laid his head on the pillow of his bed, in the room he had rented at the local inn. Business and courtesy calls would wait until the day after; right now he needed a good night sleep. And a good bath first thing in the morning._

_That night, he had a dream about Diego. In this dream, his son was back from Spain, and was having a brilliant career in the army, rising to high ranks thanks to his military successes and personal skills as a leader, a horseman and a swordsman. When Alejandro woke up, Diego was a colonel in the cavalry and about to be decorated for having led a successful charge with his men against some undefined enemy and–_

_And a bird chirped and tweeted rather insistently while a ray of sunlight filtered through the curtains and tickled Alejandro's closed eyelids. That was enough to rouse him from his pleasant dream. Damn spadger! Couldn't it wait a few more minutes before making such a racket?!_

_Making a mental note to soon set up a god training session of pigeon shooting, he reluctantly gave up the thought of going back to sleep and trying to pick up the thread of his dream where it was so brutally interrupted. Too late. Stupid bird!_

_Making the best of a bad deal, Alejandro kissed his beauty sleep good bye and got up. Time to get to work! He had quite a number of visits to make and matters to discuss in the three days he'd stay there..._

_One hour later, on the way to his lawyer, he came across none other than Cesar Villegas, to his utmost dismay. Stupid, dumb-as-a-doorknob Cesar Villegas, who was just... doing nothing, true to form. He was simply sitting on a chair on a porch, reading a book. That boy, really! Couldn't he find anything more constructive to do?_

_"Hola, buenos días Don Alejandro," Villegas said, standing to greet him. "Back among us for a few days, I suppose?"_

_"You suppose right, Señor. You know that I always come here every three months or so, to attend to some of my business!"_

Some of us have work to do, young man, _Alejandro mentally added._

_"Si, of course. And lately it seems that it is rather every two months, isn't it?" Villegas remarked in a seemingly detached tone of voice._

So what? _Alejandro inwardly retorted._

_"Oh, really?" he replied in an equally detached voice. "I don't pay attention to that: I'm not keeping a strictly regular schedule of each and every of my business trips. I just come when the need arises."_

You tonto, _Alejandro mentally added._

_"Of course," Villegas politely answered. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence in our nice town, this time?"_

_"Some details to attend to with my lawyer, first, then some goods from my rancho to trade with Señor Pérez. And a few other visits, too."_

_"To Señora Ximénez, for instance?"_

_"Hmm, no, I had not particularly considered paying her a visit, save some quick courtesy call: she must be very busy, just like last time I was here..."_

And I would even less consider paying her this courtesy call if it means meeting you there again and again, estupido! _Alejandro reflected inwardly._

_"I wouldn't know..." Villegas cryptically answered his supposition a bit glumly._

_But instead of adding anything, he politely nodded his goodbye at Don Alejandro, faintly bid him a good day in a rather subdued voice and sat back down, resuming reading._

_Hmm... all things considered, and now that the suggestion had been made... yes, perhaps he'd pay the Ximénez Company a social call today. After all, good business could be done between good friends according to Señora Ximénez, and visits sustain friendship and keep it warm..._

_'Out of sight, out of heart' they say... or wasn't it rather 'of mind'? Well anyway, friendship asked for being kept alive by means of little things like courtesy calls, even unannounced. And perhaps a small bouquet of flowers? But he soon gave up the idea: preposterous, Doña Araceli had plenty of flowers in her own garden and in her patio, and these were probably the most beautiful ones of all San Diego!_

_Too bad, a bunch of yellow roses would have been fitting..._

_Anyway, he had things to do for now. Perhaps he'd go to Doña Araceli's house if he had some time left at the end of the afternoon. Or perhaps not. After all, it was not like he had any particular deal to discuss with the Ximénez Company!_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_In the end, he noted after siesta time that the fortunes of his schedule had it that he happened to be in the vicinity of Doña Araceli's house. Was it chance, really, or had he somehow subconsciously arranged for this? Bah, whatever! Now that he was there..._

_He urged Dulcinea to the mare's previous 'home'._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"Oh, Don Alejandro!" Concepcion said when she opened the door, "you're back in San Diego!"_

_"Yes I am, Señora Concepcion, and I thought fitting to come and pay my respects to your mistress, if she is home."_

_"She is, and I am sure she will be glad to see you. And as for me, I too am glad you're here: to tell you the truth, your visits seemed to lift her spirits lately. Actually for the last past months she'd been a bit down, melancholy, but after your visits she seemed to revert to her normal self again for a few hours. Chatting with you visibly cheers her up, so I'm happy your business brought him to San Diego again!"_

_"Down? You say she's been feeling low-spirited lately?" Alejandro asked Concepcion, wonderingly: he hadn't noticed it. "Did something happen?"_

_He dreaded the maid's answer. But if one of Doña Araceli's parents or siblings had passed away, she sure would have sent him a death announcement, or at least he would have gotten word of it either through his other acquaintances here in San Diego, through the grapevine, or even through a death notice in the newspapers!_

_"You haven't heard?" Concepcion asked, surprised. "Oh, yes, I suddenly forgot that you don't live here in San Diego, so you probably didn't... Well, you might not have known it, but roughly four months ago Doña Araceli and Don Cesar broke up, and although she didn't want to let it show, I know she took it rather hard at the time, probably because of how it happened; but she's been doing better for the last two months or so, even though she's still a bit more subdued than she normally is..."_

_She broke up with Villegas? Oh!_

_Oh... he should feel sad for her and sympathise with her pain, and he truly did, but against his better judgement and without him knowing why, part of him felt rather glad at this surprising piece of news._

_And it happened months ago...? He tried not to let anything show of the strange rejoicing he was inwardly feeling. He decided that his gladness probably came from the relief he was feeling on her behalf: bah! she was better off without him. She might not have realised it at the moment, but with time she'll see things clearer and will finally come to grips with it._

_"Oh! ...oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Alejandro managed to politely let out. "What happened...?"_

_Concepcion had said that the way it happened had made it hard on Araceli... On_ Doña _Araceli, Alejandro inwardly corrected his over-familiar thought._

_Yes, what happened indeed? Did this man dare cheat on her? But how could any man even think of cheating on such a woman? Or did he purely and simply ditch her for another woman? For an even younger one? Or a richer one? A prettier one? What a prize idiot! Well, his loss, then._

_Or... He wouldn't... He certainly didn't... he certainly wouldn't dare lay a hand on her, would he?_

_"Oh, it was awful, Don Alejandro. It happened when Don Gaspar, Doña Araceli's brother was there. One night, after she threw a dinner party and when all the guests had gone back home, she and her brother argued about her not being married; she told him over and over that she didn't want to, he insisted and said that their father too preferred that she remarried, and she replied that it had to be_ her _decision and_ only _hers, not theirs, and that she didn't want to get married ever again, be it to Don Cesar or to anyone else, and that she was perfectly happy with her life as it was, and with her freedom."_

_Alejandro felt rather relieved to know that. But why...? It wasn't like it was any of his concern!_

_"I don't think Don Gaspar was already too fond of Don Cesar even before this," Concepcion went on, "but it didn't matter: when Don Cesar came for lunch the next day, Don Gaspar immediately took him aside and... well, I don't know exactly but it appears he asked him whether or not he intended to ask for his sister's hand, and why he hadn't done it earlier."_

_She paused._

_"...And...?" Don Alejandro prompted her._

_"Well, I think that Don Cesar answered it was strictly his and Doña Araceli's business, and I don't know the details but it seems he stood up for her, saying she was entitled to her own choices. I also heard him say that she deserved respect, even from her brother, whatever the way she had chosen to live her life. And that their choices too had to be respected. Well, in short, Don Cesar supported Doña Araceli in her argument with her brother, and they were more or less in agreement with each other."_

_"...So...?" Alejandro asked. "Why the break-up, then?"_

_"Well... it should really have ended there, but on the contrary it turned nasty. Don Gaspar didn't give up and he accused Don Cesar of having seduced her and made her think that she didn't want marriage. He hinted that it was very convenient to him that way. And Don Cesar retorted that he didn't force her to anything and wouldn't be able to influence her in any way even if his life depended on it, and he added that if the two of them got on so well it was probably because they were very clear with each other and on perfect agreement on such points as that one."_

_She paused again and Alejandro still didn't see how this could have led to a break-up between the two lovers._

_"...And...?" he said again._

_"And then..." she sighed, "then Don Gaspar lost his temper, Señor Villegas too, Doña Araceli wasn't very far behind, everyone got upset and they argued further. And in the middle of this... Don Gaspar called Don Cesar... well, he called him names that I won't repeat. To his credit I must say that Señor Villegas took it better than any other would have, but then Don Gaspar also called his own sister– well, there is no way I would ever repeat that word, but it was bad. It was very bad, and this time Señor Villegas lost it too, and he demanded that Don Gaspar apologise to Doña Araceli. She too commanded her brother to do so. And believe me, he really should have. But they all are more stubborn than mules in this family, so Don Gaspar refused. Things escalated, everyone was talking at the same time, and suddenly Señor Villegas threw his glove in Don Gaspar's face."_

Oh dear, _Alejandro thought,_ a duel!

_"Doña Araceli told Don Cesar that he was crazy, she demanded that he withdrew his challenge but he refused. Then she forbade her brother to pick up the glove, but he didn't listen to her and he did. She became cross with both of them and started to shout at them, then Don Gaspar said something and that's when Señor Villegas threw a punch at him."_

_Oh Dios mio!_

_"Then Don Gaspar defended himself and Doña Araceli intervened and tried to come between them, but they didn't pay attention to her and she took a blow in the chest. It made them stop, and she gave them such an earful! Finally, she threw both of them out, even her own brother! Doña Araceli told Don Cesar he would never cross this threshold ever again, and Don Gaspar had to go to the inn for the night, until he simmered down she said, while his wife was still welcome to stay here. The morning after he came back here with his tail between his legs and apologised to his sister. And I think he wasn't too proud in front of his wife either," she added in a giggle, "and they had him swear that he wouldn't ever duel with anyone!"_

_"And Villegas...?"_

_"He too came here to apologise. But she didn't let him in. She went to talk with him in the garden and I don't know exactly what they said, but she clearly told him it was over. He asked her to change her mind, to forgive him, I think he even begged her, but she stood firm: I guess she didn't like the violence she glimpsed in him. She is not overly fond of these kind of... virile displays of manliness, and she hates anything akin to violence."_

_Alejandro couldn't help but think that she was some strange bird: any normal girl generally felt flattered to have men fight for them, and were generally grateful to a man for defending their honour; they even expected exactly that from their husband, lover, beau, suitor or significant other..._

_Alejandro was puzzled. Well, apparently Araceli Ximénez de Valdès wasn't just any regular girl. Like he hadn't already become aware of it in the course of the two or three years he'd known her!_

_"Poor girl..." Concepcion commented. "I know I shouldn't talk about my mistress like that, but she is so much younger than I am, you see... She cried quite a few times in the days after this nasty fight between her brother and Don Cesar. And to think that she normally never cries! Of course she didn't want to show it, and she probably didn't cry in front of anyone, but I'm the one who takes care of her laundry here and I can tell you that I washed an awful lot of handkerchiefs in the two days after! But don't worry, she is doing far better now... and I am sure she will be even merrier when she knows you're here. Well, I'm talking, talking, talking..." Concepcion then said, "and I still haven't told my mistress that you've come to see her. Please forgive me, and make yourself comfortable Don Alejandro, I'm going to let Doña Araceli know that you are here."_

_She gave him a faint curtsey and disappeared._

_Despite the maid's depiction of her mistress's earlier sadness, Don Alejandro de la Vega was feeling light-hearted. And on second thought, perhaps he had misjudged this young man after all, perhaps he had been unfair with him: all things considered, maybe Cesar Villegas wasn't that bad, that useless; maybe he wasn't as stupid and unpleasant as Alejandro had initially thought him to be!_

_But by now, it wasn't of any consequence anymore, was it?_

_Anyway, this account taught him something more about Señora Araceli Ximénez de Valdès: between her friends and her family, she would always favour family: rather lose a lover than fall out with a close relative. Plenty of fish in the sea, but only one family..._


	52. Ch 52 - Orange is the new rose

Well...

Well well well well well.

To say that Diego was completely puzzled was an understatement.

Only now was he starting to fully realise what Victoria had just suggested – _asked_ – him. And to realise that it was real, and not some nonsensical dream conceived by his tired mind and over-fecund imagination.

Talking about conceiving and fecund... He could hardly believe the conversation he just had with Victoria truly happened, and above all, he couldn't believe he didn't even try to dissuade her from her new obsession. He even promised to think about it!

Well, since he promised, then he owed it to her and to his given word to indeed think about it.

When he arrived at the hacienda, he spotted Felipe in the courtyard, who asked him what delayed him so much after he, Leonor and her mother left the tavern.

"Oh, Victoria and I just chatted a bit," Diego answered, sounding detached.

 _Quite a long talk_ , Felipe remarked.

"Hmm? Uh, she needed my help with something," he added dismissively.

Diego idly peeked inside the house through the window and caught a glimpse of his father and Señora Valdès cuddling and pampering Leonor, and this sight aroused in him a longing he knew was in him, but had never felt so strongly. It was almost like an ache in his chest, digging a hole in there that nothing seemed to be able to fill. He sighed, suddenly envious of his father, and of this woman.

It was tempting... It was _very_ tempting. And at this moment he too understood Victoria's yearning for their happiness, their unwedded bliss, for this kind of felicity, for this particular form of blessing.

But what of the implications? What of the consequences in the long run?

On the other hand... the resulting happiness should be worth it, shouldn't it?

A family, even an unconventional one... A child... Parental bliss...

Would she ever get it?

Would _he_ ever get it?

It seemed she put the answer to both questions in his very hesitant hands.

And what of Zorro?

Peeking again through the window, Diego now caught sight of his father's now dreamy look and moony smile.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Don Alejandro's mind was now very far away from his own sala in Los Angeles, where his body was currently sitting on a chair near his table: it had in fact unwillingly travelled back to another sala, in San Diego, and a few years ago...

_He had been standing in the middle of Doña Araceli's sala for a few minutes at Concepcion's invitation and was waiting for her while pondering the surprising piece of news – of gossip? – the maid had just told him about her mistress's break-up with her former man-of-the-moment. Come to think of this, yes, he hadn't seen Villegas anywhere near Doña Araceli during his last visit in San Diego. And yes, she may have seemed a slight bit down when he first turned up unannounced._

_But now this was all probably water under the bridge, or would be before long: Villegas certainly wasn't unforgettable, and 'better alone than in bad company!'! All right, all right, Alejandro thought, he had just decided that Villegas wasn't that bad, but this was no reason to mourn too long... According to what Concepcion said, the unpleasant row between the Ximénez siblings happened just the night after the oh-so pleasant party she had invited him to four months earlier... Too bad, it had been such a nice evening... the flowers had been magnificent, the ladies very elegant, and he could still smell the blended scents of wisteria, lilac and even a subtle hint of jasmine. Her garden had been just at the beginning of its flowering glory._

Oww! _His sweet reverie was brutally interrupted by a projectile colliding with his cheek and temple. A_ soft _projectile... cushiony, even!_

_By reflex, he picked up the projectile in question which had ended up landing on an armchair nearby._

_"Serves you right, this was for having fun at my expense!"_

_The voice was undeniably Doña Araceli's, the projectile was undeniably the cushion embroidered with a horse he had playfully bought for her two months earlier, and most importantly, her tone of voice was undeniably light-hearted and teasing. He felt relieved: she didn't resent his cheek and certainly could take a joke, he didn't misjudge her on that._

_"All right Señora, I plead guilty to all charges," Don Alejandro said in a gallant bow, "and I accept any sanction you'll find appropriate to punish my misdemeanour."_

_He walked to her, and in another deep bow he bent over her hand and lightly brushed it with his lips in a polite and very decorous handkiss._

_"Hmm... well..." Doña Araceli said, making a playful show of thinking hard about what he just said, "in that case I sentence you to... to attendance to the dinner party I happen to be hosting here tonight."_

_"A party?" Alejandro asked._

_"Oh, nothing too fancy: a gathering of some of my regular business relationships, mainly. As you certainly know, good business requires that ties be kept up through little things like that."_

_He nodded: he had been having more or less similar thoughts earlier in the day._

_"I can only comply with what you amerce me to for my misdeed. With you as a judge, it's a pleasure to atone for one's sins."_

_"Oh, but be careful what you say: I could be far less merciful!" she said, sporting a fake frown on her face._

As Señor Villegas learned the hard way, _Don Alejandro inwardly reflected._

_"Does this mean I have to take this back?" he asked with a grin, holding the cushion right in front of her eyes._

_"No," she replied taking it with her left hand, "but it means that you have far too much a nerve for your own good, Señor!"_

_And to punctuate her words, she gave him a light slap behind his head with the corpus delicti._

_Alejandro noted the usual sparkle in her eyes, and he thought that her maid probably was mistaken about her mistress's supposed mourning: Doña Araceli's melancholy was obviously ancient story, and Cesar Villegas probably long forgotten! Señora Ximénez was the kind of person to whom the past was just that,_ past _, and who looked ahead..._

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_"Dinner was excellent, Señora, as always," Alejandro politely complimented. "Your cook in an artist, but even the enjoyment of good fare couldn't equal the pleasure of the hostess's company..."_

_"Indeed," another guest confirmed. "Señor de la Vega perfectly expressed the general feeling, Doña Araceli. One couldn't have put it any better."_

_"Thank you, caballeros," she graciously answered with a gentle smile and slightly lowered eyes. Was it suddenly... a faint_ blush _on her cheeks?_

_She pinched her lips and called her servant:_

_"Concepcion! Please bring some liquors for these gentlemen."_

_"Si Señora."_

_A minute later she came back with a crystal carafe filled with a golden amberish liquid._

_Doña Araceli gestured elegantly to it and told the male part of the assembly:_

_"May I offer you some Armagnac, gentlemen?"_

_"Armagnac?" a guest asked appreciatively._

_"Yes," she confirmed. "Didn't I tell you I have built up business relationships with some producers in France? Please have a taste of it, you'd oblige me..."_

_Oooh, Alejandro thought, it seems she has just found another buyer for her casks of Armagnac!_

_With a knowing smile and a glint in his eyes, he raised his glass at her. 'Never lose an occasion to make a good deal', her father said... Well, she had definitely been a good apprentice!_

_She caught his look and slightly shrugged, faking an innocent smile which she knew wouldn't fool him: she knew he wasn't born yesterday..._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"Now tell me, Don Alejandro, how is your Dulcinea doing?" Doña Araceli asked Don Alejandro._

_Most of the guests had taken their leave, and she was now seeing him to the gate, slowly walking through her garden. In the blazy light of the reddish-orange setting sun, the surroundings looked magnificent and he didn't want to go back to the inn just yet. But it was late, and he couldn't impose on her any longer._

_Yet he took the time of few sentences of quiet and gentle banter before parting._

_"Dulcinea is doing great," he replied, "waiting for you to mount her again!"_

_She made a face._

_"Thank you but I have to decline: you know as well as I do that this mare is not overly fond of me."_

_"Just go to your stable where she is currently resting," he told her, "and have a look for yourself: she can be as gentle as a lamb once you've earned her trust..."_

_"Hmm, I'm afraid it is a blatant case of mutual incompatibility, here..." she said. "She doesn't like me. It seems she simply took a dislike to me from the very beginning."_

_"Then I have finally found a flaw in this horse: she has a terrible lack of good taste!"_

_She smiled._

_"That's very kind of you, Don Alejandro, thank you."_

_"I mean every word of it," he assured her._

_Her smile grew wider. Then she stopped walking, fully turned to him, leaned her head to one side and, frowning a bit, she went on:_

_"Yet, I must contradict you: she seems to be very fond of you, so it means that she has in fact some very good taste."_

_He bowed his head and smiled in turn at the compliment._

_Then the blazing horizon and the rosy clouds just above it seemed to unexpectedly catch her attention. She sat on a stone bench and let her eyes roam there._

_"Look at this, it's absolutely gorgeous," she simply said._

_He slowly turned to the horizon and sat down too, to better enjoy the sight._

_"It is indeed," he finally said. There was nothing to add._

_Slowly but surely the sun was sinking below the line, and everything was taking a slightly darker shade of tone. That's when Don Alejandro finally broke the quiet silence between them to share the thought crossing his mind:_

_"I'm surprised: I didn't think you were the kind of person who would be enthralled by the sight of a sunset, or of any of Mother Nature's wonders..."_

_"Too prosaic and down-to-earth for that, that's what you thought, isn't it?" she said in a chuckle._

_"Hmm, yes... no... I don't know... Well, yes, perhaps."_

_She barely suppressed an amused smile._

_"Good. That's mainly how I am, you know. And that's how I need people to see me. Even though from time to time I can just sit and gaze at some simple thing..."_

_"Hence the splendid garden you've gotten yourself," he commented._

_"Admit it, until now you thought it was just to impress my suppliers and customers..."_

_"NO!" he protested. "No. But if you don't want people to know this... more sentimental side of you, then why did you just reveal it to me?"_

_She lowered her head and he saw her shrug. Then she raised her head again and simply answered with anther shrug:_

_"I don't know. Do you think I should kill you to protect my secret?" she added with a comical raise of her eyebrows._

_He made a show of thinking hard about her suggestion._

_"Hmmm, difficult question here..."_

_He paused._

_"...I don't think so," he finally answered. "After all, I didn't tell a soul about you paying this Ortega's debts and fines a few months ago..."_

_He remembered that night, four months ago: the nice banter between her, Villegas and himself had taken place in this very garden, a few feet from where they were currently sitting. And to think that just the day after she had broken up with the man! No one could have guessed it!_

_"Good," she replied. "That's a relief: I wouldn't have known what to do with your body," she added. "_ Corpse, _I mean!" she hastily corrected. "What to do with your_ corpse! _"_

_She awkwardly bit her lower lip and he barely suppressed a laugh. He was dying to tease her on her choice of word, but it really wouldn't have been seemly; so for once he took pity on her and chose to change the subject._

_"Talking about the wonders of nature," he said, "this rosebush there has a truly surprising colour!"_

_He pointed at a bush blooming with orange roses a few feet away from them._

_"As a matter of fact," he added, "I don't think I have ever seen any rose of this particular shade."_

_"I know," Doña Araceli said, "it's a gift from my sister. She and her husband have a few of these in their garden, and they keep their lips sealed as to how their gardener managed to create this particular rose. I strongly suspect he bred a yellow rose and either a pink or a red one, though... Anyway, it's a miracle it survived the travel and the planting here!"_

_"I'm glad it did," Alejandro said. "It reminds me a lot of the colours of the gorgeous sunset we're having tonight."_

_"Come have a closer look at it, then," she suggested._

_She took a few steps to the bush and he followed her. Nearby was also a climbing honeysuckle, running along either a railing or a slatted fence. He could smell the subtle scent of it._

_"Unfortunately it's almost over," she added. "The sunset, I mean. Look, the sun has disappeared, it's already darker now. Good thing the moon is almost full, or we would soon not see anything."_

_He leaned forward to one of the flowers and looked at it: the petals seemed to be yellow at their very base, then they soon turned orange – peachy, then coral – and the far end of these even had a rosy or reddish thin line. It was very surprising. And beautiful._

_Doña Araceli raised a hand to the bush and to the stem of the flower he was admiring. Then with a sharp tug, she snatched it from the bush._

_"Ow!" she let out, raising her finger to her mouth with a wince_

_"Please, allow me," Don Alejandro told her, taking the offending flower from her. While she was nursing her finger, he carefully removed all the thorns on the stem, then he handed it back to her._

_"Here," he said._

_"Thank you very much," she told him, taking the rose back from him, "but in fact you could have kept it: I was only picking it for you. As a keepsake, to remember this beautiful sunset in the following days."_

_And putting words into action, Doña Araceli slipped the rose in his jacket's breast pocket with a benign smile and, lowering her head to look at what she was doing, she arranged it so that the flower seemed to beautifully bloom out of the pocket. Just over his heart, she idly noted. After that, she smoothed the fabric and while she was letting her hands linger a little too long there, she felt... that she'd like to let them roam there even longer!_

_Her smile stopped dead on her lips and her hands started shaking very lightly. But she still didn't remove them. On the contrary, she paused in what she was doing and rested them a bit harder on his chest in order to try and stop their quivering. Right there. On his chest. With her right hand over his heart._

_She stopped looking at these and raised her face straight ahead again._

_Alejandro was surrounded by the heady scent of honeysuckle with subtle hints of rose, and from the far end of the garden was also sometimes coming the fragrance of lavender. Night had fallen, it had now grown almost dark as a cloud was just hiding the moon, and the garden was totally silent. He hardly saw anything but a shadow in front of him. The only senses through which he was still able to precisely perceive the surroundings and the situation were smell and – ooh! –_ touch _._

_And touching there was... He became very much aware of her hands resting against his chest, lingering there, and even of her breath caressing the skin of his face like a light summer breeze. He felt his heartbeat react to all this by quickening its pace. And despite the several layers of fabric there her hand would inevitably feel it. He swallowed hard._

_The smell of honeysuckle was going straight to his head. It was nice._

_He gently took her wrists in his hands and removed hers from his chest._

_The scent of the rose on his heart made its way through the other scents and added to the subtle fragrance the mixed flowers were creating. He didn't totally release her wrists. He liked the smoothness of the skin in the inner side of these._

_He should take his leave._

_A wilted flower of honeysuckle fell on his shoulder. In a few weeks the whole bush would have withered. Too bad, really! He suddenly found this idea to be unbearable._

_She freed her right hand from his and raised it to his shoulder to brush the white flower away. He caught another whiff of it when she did._

_The cloud over the moon finally decided to go away and some light came back, enough for him to see the details of her face._

_The fire which had been blazing in the sky a few minutes before was now extinguished over there, but it had kindled in her eyes. She too swallowed hard. Her lips were almost as gleaming as her eyes._

_"Don Alejandro..."_

_Her voice was low, quiet._

_Yes, she was right, it was late and he was going to take his leave. As soon as his feet and arms obey him._

_She let her right hand slide a bit behind his shoulder. Her blazing eyes stared at him intently._

_"Please kiss me," she murmured._

_Oh dear!_

_Another whiff of honeysuckle reached his nostrils and went straight to his head._

_He really should be going. But he couldn't tear his gaze away from her face. How could he have ever thought there could be prettier girls? How could he ever have thought she wasn't the most beautiful woman of all California?_

_"Kiss me..."_

No! _was shouting the seemly and proper part of his mind._

Oh yes, yes! _was beggingly screaming all the rest._

_"Please..." she breathed._

_Oh Dios!_

Go, go now, just go back to the inn right now! _the reasonable part of him was commanding him to do._

_His mouth went dry. She took a small step forward and almost all of her was now touching him. And now his mouth went very wet. She leaned her head a bit closer to his, and she whispered:_

_"Alejandro... kiss me."_

_That's what undid him. Her use of his name. Of his_ given _name. Of_ only _his given name, without the honorific title._

_It vanquished any resistance his will was still opposing to his wish. He slowly leaned forward too, and when his lips bushed against hers his heart leaped in his chest and his stomach did some sort of funny flip-flap. Of all the senses he needed to perceive a situation, he had forgotten one: taste._

_And he tasted her. Her lips. Then her mouth. Her tongue. Her breath._

_The kiss was sweet. And slow._

_Soft. But burning, too. Deliciously so. He vaguely felt her hand roam over his back, brush his neck, the back of his head. And her other hand was lightly running up and down his left arm._

_Delicious._

_But in the back of his mind, something was bugging him._

_His conscience._

_He finally drew back, rested his forehead against hers for a split second, and then took a step back as reality hit him hard. Really, he blamed it all on honeysuckle._

_"I'm... I'm... I'm terribly sorry," he finally managed to stammer, not daring look her in the eyes. "I shouldn't have. My apologies. There is no... I shouldn't have," he hastily repeated, still not looking at her face. "I shouldn't have. Please, I hope you'll forgive me. Uh... Good night, Señora," he said, addressing her feet rather than her face._

_Then he abruptly turned his back to her and made a hasty exit to the stables, not hearing Araceli's puzzled 'Wait!'_

_When she reached the stables she saw that he was already galloping to the town in the dark of the night, guided by the sole moonlight._

_That night he had a very steamy and wet dream about her and, at the crack of dawn, he took the road back to the safety of Los Angeles, without even attending the other business appointments he had initially scheduled for the duration of his stay in San Diego._

_For the first time in his life, Alejandro de la Vega was running away._


	53. Ch 53 - Familial harmony

Diego woke up late, with a foggy mind. Then slowly, the conversation he had with Victoria and what she requested from him came back to his mind.

Pffff... What a mess! Let's sum it up: for lack of being able to build a life, marry and have children with him-Zorro, Victoria asked him-Diego to give her a child without marrying her...

This was pure madness. And why did he feel the need to repeat this to himself over and over again? Pure folly.

But what was most puzzling about all this wasn't even about Victoria's behaviour, but about his: why on earth didn't he say a gentle but flat 'no' and patiently bring her back to reason? Show her the flaws of her plan, which where... what exactly?

Not that she would be alone with a child to provide for: he knew that he wouldn't ever abandon a child of his, and that if anything were to happen to him, his father wouldn't let them down either.

Not that she would lose her business either: in fact, the best way not to lose it was indeed not to marry, and yet have an heir to hand it over to later... And anyway, she wasn't running some useless, dispensable business, no: she was running a tavern, the only tavern and hostelry in miles and miles around, and people around here wouldn't go on hunger strike – and even less on _thirst_ strike! – just because the innkeeper and a local caballero had a child without being married! People weren't self-righteous, bigot and holier-than-thou to that extent.

Or at least he hoped so...

But deep down, and although he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself, he knew why he didn't immediately refuse to grant her wish: the prospect of starting a family and sharing a child with Victoria Escalante, the woman he wanted to build his life with, was tempting.

 _Very_   tempting.

It was in fact all he had wanted – well, this _and_ a fair alcalde – ever since he came back from Spain and set foot again in the pueblo de Los Angeles...

_Victoria..._

Well, of all the different ways he could have had children with her, of all the manners his fantasies had imagined starting a family with her, this one had never come to his mind.

Pffff... This was utter madness.

Just like his father having Leonor and her mother come to Los Angeles. Just like his father having an affair with that woman in the first place. Pure folly. And ridiculous, too: she was young enough to be his daughter!

At least, it wouldn't be the same for Victoria and himself: she wasn't twenty-five years his junior!

Anyway, the mere idea, the possibility her request gave rise to in his mind was still complete madness, he told himself. But wasn't love crazy anyway? Wasn't having a child always crazy?

Love was no rational or sensible thing, after all. It had no rhyme or reason.

But in his particular case... He was a man with a dark and dangerous secret, no real future ahead, a bounty on his head and a continuously postponed date with a rope and a noose, or with a firing squad.

Yes, in his case making plans about a long-term future would be completely foolish... and totally irresponsible. And to be a father worthy of the name you needed to be _very_ responsible. He didn't have the right to have children, at least in his current situation. So in short, Zorro might be the dashing hero and most flattering suitor in a woman's eyes, but he certainly couldn't be a father, a husband and a lifelong partner for her.

Well, obviously Victoria too had come to this conclusion, at least for the 'father' part of it, hence her recent choice of someone else than Zorro for her shocking proposition.

 _Someone else than Zorro..._ how ironic!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Diego," his father told him after breakfast, "I'd like you to come with us have lunch in the pueblo today at noon..."

"Hmm? Yes, why not," he replied distractedly, not paying much attention.

Then something in what his father just said tickled a little bit at the back of his mind:

"And by the way, who would be this 'us', Father?" he idly asked.

"Leonor, Araceli and I."

"And me, then," Diego added. "A family outing of some sort?"

"You read my mind, son," Alejandro replied. "Look, I want people to see that things are all right. Because they are now, aren't they?" he asked, watching his son's reaction. "I need people in Los Angeles to see that you are alright with Leonor's existence, and that you accept Araceli and her. It then would help–"

He paused.

"I mean, it would certainly help make them accept the situation too, and the sooner the gossips die down, the better. Not only for me, but also for Leonor. She is going to come here regularly now, you know... And I don't want people to... well..."

"To make malicious comments about her in her presence, you mean?"

"Yes," Don Alejandro answered, "or even behind her back. Or about her mother, too..." he added. "And the sooner people come to terms with that and revert to minding their own business, the better!"

"Did people ever only mind their own business?" Diego rhetorically asked. "I didn't notice," he added, undoubtedly referring to the unending gossips about his confirmed bachelorhood or his well-known laziness and spinelessness.

The day before, he even heard the blacksmith tell one of his customers that one 'couldn't completely blame Don Alejandro for wanting other children, what with the wussy wimp of a son he had!'

But having lunch 'in the pueblo' meant 'at the tavern', which also meant coming face to face with Victoria. And his reluctance at facing her as Diego just after she tried to seduce Zorro to her bed was now nothing compared with the idea of facing her after she propositioned him, the _real_ him, the day before, after she asked him to sleep with her to give her a child!

Not to mention that even though she granted him a month to think about it, she'd probably expectantly search his face for any sign of his answer, and her eyes couldn't certainly help but ask him whether he had any answer for her yet...

Diego was really tempted to tell Don Alejandro he had some reading or experiment or whatever to do, but he saw his father's expectant look and couldn't deny him that.

And who knows, perhaps in a few months he too would need his father's understanding and goodwill to gain people's toleration of his and Victoria's deeds.

 _Whoa, whoa, wait!_ He hadn't decided anything, yet! And in fact he was mainly leaning towards the reasonable and sensible 'no' in that matter, wasn't he?

Yes he was, he told himself.

Anyway, Don Alejandro was still waiting for his indication that he accepted not only his father's past as it was, but also that he would be supportive of him and of Leonor...

"Alright Father, I'll come with you."

_And I'll try to avoid Victoria's gaze._

"Wonderful, son!" Alejandro happily told him. "And I'm sure Victoria will be happy to see you," he added far too joyfully for Diego's liking.

_Ow, nooo!_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Araceli! Leonor!" Don Alejandro called, "are you ready to go?"

"Almost!" Doña Araceli's voice answered from the corridor. "Just give me some time to go to my bedroom and take a parasol and a fan, it's so sunny and hot today!"

"Of course," he said. "Leonor?"

The little girl came bouncing into the room.

"I'm here, Papá, I'm ready!"

"Good. You and Diego can already go and take place in the carriage, I'm just waiting for Mamá. We'll join you in a minute, as soon as she is ready..."

"Diego is coming too? Great!" the little one rejoiced, grinning at her big brother.

"Gracias Señorita," he told her with a gracious smile.

"And is Felipe coming too?" she asked him. "Please!"

"Felipe?" Diego asked. "Well, yes, why not!"

"Whee!" she exclaimed, bouncing again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Diego saw Don Alejandro wince slightly at his daughter's overenthusiastic reaction. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at his father: _well, what?_ it seemed to mean.

 _I'll tell you later_ , Alejandro mouthed at his son.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Oh, Don Alejandro! Buenos días," Victoria greeted him warmly, a large smile adorning her face.

It grew even larger when she spotted Leonor holding his hand. The two of them looked so sweet together! But the little girl's big dark eyes weren't turned to her father but towards Felipe, while the young servant was totally oblivious to the child's fascination: he too greeted Victoria with a nice smile and a wave of his hand.

But her smile froze on her lips when she next saw Don Diego enter her tavern.

_Diego!_

Oh Dios! Her blood ran cold, and then suddenly very hot – especially in her face! – and again freezing cold as she saw Señora Valdès beside him.

At his father's request, Diego had offered his arm to Doña Araceli when they arrived in the pueblo. Better show people around that there was no trouble in paradise in the de la Vega family, and especially between the legitimate son and the former mistress!

Something icy fell in the pit of Victoria's stomach: was _this_ his answer to her request? Parading with another woman on his arm, and flaunting her in her face? What a blatant lack of thoughtfulness! He might not be the most gifted man in the world as far as understanding women was concerned, but he wouldn't intentionally hurt someone's feelings, she knew that... So why this display of... closeness with another girl just before the eyes of the very woman who asked him to give her a child just the night before?

Alejandro finally noticed Victoria's sudden unease and her eyes glued to Diego and Araceli's linked arms, and a horrified look quickly cast a shadow over his features. He soon walked to Araceli and offered her his arm.

"Thank you Diego," he said quietly, but loud enough for Victoria to be able to hear it. "I appreciate," he added.

Diego quickly bowed over Araceli's hand and gently put it on his father's proffered forearm, hoping that this display of familial harmony was enough to prevent people from poking their nose where it didn't belong and to have them mind their own business.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Araceli was puzzled: Alejandro had asked Diego to offer her his arm when they got out of the carriage and went to the tavern; she understood that he couldn't do this himself: he didn't want the lovely innkeeper to get the wrong idea about any rekindling of their past affair.

And indeed, the girl had literally beamed when she saw him enter her tavern, even more so when she noticed that he had been holding hands with Leonor! But then... then why did he offer her his arm once inside? Why did he insist on escorting her to their table himself, all the while watching this woman out of the corner of his eye?

Yes, why? Decidedly, this man was so complicated sometimes! He'd never cease to puzzle her. And she didn't like being unsettled: she wasn't used to it. In business matters, she liked to see where things were heading to and to know beforehand how people would react to events or situations. And being unsettled was very uncomfortable...


	54. Ch 54 - The other side of the coin

"That's strange," Alejandro told Araceli while sipping his drink, "this wine tastes absolutely normal to me! As good as ever, I would even say..."

"Ah yes?" she said. "Really?"

"What's about Victoria's Madeira?" Diego asked.

"Well, Araceli found it to taste bad yesterday–"

"...and the day before!" she completed. "Like it had turned sour. Not really corked, no. Sour."

Alejandro handed her his glass:

"Here, have a taste of it! I assure you it's very good!"

She cautiously and tentatively took a sip of it. Her features turned into a surprised expression.

"Indeed it is!"

She looked at the red liquid and sniffed it.

"How strange..." she added pensively. "I must get to the bottom of it."

"Really," Don Alejandro told her, "do you think this is that important?"

"It's MY wine, Alejandro, MY reputation that is at stake here! I'll ask Señorita Escalante to show me her cellar or her storeroom."

"I'm certain it's a perfect waste of your time – and of hers, incidentally – but of course there's no way to talk you out of this..." Don Alejandro said, resigned.

"Indeed," she answered.

Diego, for his part, wasn't as convinced as his father was that the incident was just an unfortunate bad luck, the exception to a batch of perfectly good product: what if someone had been tampering with Victoria's goods? Some deliberate act of malice to damage her tavern's excellent reputation? Or worse: an attempt against Victoria herself, to poison her?

But who would even think of doing anything like that? Victoria didn't have any personal enemy!

But the sensible part of him told him that even though she drank this wine at least twice, Doña Araceli was doing perfectly right, fit as a fiddle. So whatever it was, it wasn't aimed at killing anyone, thank God.

Yet it was still a bit worrying, if it wasn't indeed a simple case of a single bottle or cask which had been incorrectly closed and had gone sour during ageing...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria had barely dared look Don Diego in the eyes, especially in his father's presence. Not that _he_ had been a paragon of virtue himself, as the recent revelations had cast light on, but still: he was the father of the man she had just tried to lead astray.

She barely dared look at Don Diego, but at the same time she was dying to watch his face – _scrutinise_ it, even – for any indication that he had taken a decision, that he already had an answer to give her.

She was on pins and needles: oh dear, how would she be able to endure this state of uncertainty for a whole month? What a fool she had been to grant him this month-long time to think. She should have offered one week, not four! Oh Dios, she would die from uncertain expectancy within a fortnight!

She couldn't help but glance at him: her eyes met his, and he suddenly had the look of a prey cornered against a wall. Something uncomfortably churned in her stomach out of apprehension and her throat went dry. She swallowed.

One whole and very long month! Oh no, she really, really hoped Don Diego would take a decision and give her his answer very soon. And that it would be the one she was hoping for.

Oh, Santa Maria Madre de Dios! She really had a knack for putting herself at the mercy of other men's decisions! First with Zorro, now with Don Diego, she was continuously waiting at a man's pleasure and goodwill! She had been waiting for years for El Zorro to fulfil his promise to unmask for her, and then his promise to marry her when the time is right. But since Zorro wasn't anywhere near finding that the time would ever be right in a foreseeable future, she had asked another one to give her these children she was yearning for, and now she was waiting at Don Diego's goodwill...

And to think she prided herself on being an independent woman! What a fraud!

After all, perhaps Señora Valdès was the one who was right: she was living her life and had built it without depending on any man – well except her own father of course – but wasn't waiting for anything from men, wasn't expecting anything, and took whatever it was life chose to give her – be it love stories, beaus, friends, lovers, or a child. She was living her life without a man, and it didn't seem to miss her. Except for the... ahem... the _obvious_ , but Victoria was sure she didn't have any difficulty finding one for _this_.

 _'Scarlet woman'!_ was what first came to her mind, as she remembered what her own parents used to say of such women.

 _Lucky girl!_ Victoria immediately thought with more than a hint of envy. When _she_ wanted something, she certainly wasn't the kind of person who just asked shyly and then simply sat and waited. No. Odds were even that _she_ had been the one who asked her late husband to marry her, against the custom.

Well, it seemed that currently that woman had set her eyes on Don Diego, which didn't suit Victoria's recent projects, at all! Yes, Victoria told herself, she had finally put her finger on why seeing Don Diego 'getting along so well' with Doña Araceli was bothering her that much: if that woman got her own way with him, or if he became infatuated with her, then he would be less likely to agree to her request.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Another orange juice for Señorita Leonor?" Victoria repeated Alejandro's order while she was serving patrons at a nearby table. "Si, I bring you this in a minute."

"Don Alejandro, glad to meet you here! How are you, amigo?"

"Don Carlos! Buenos días!" Alejandro greeted his friend.

"Oh, please forgive me, where are my manners?" Don Carlos said, turning to Araceli. "Señora..." he told her, bowing his head. "Young señorita... Don Diego..."

"Oh, now _my_ manners are at fault," Alejandro said. "Don Carlos, please meet Doña Araceli Ximénez de Valdès... Araceli, this is Don Carlos Ocaña, a ranchero and a friend of mine here in Los Angeles."

"A pleasure, Señor," she politely said.

"The pleasure is mine, Doña Araceli," he replied.

Alejandro swallowed a bit to give himself some courage and tried to sound detached as he furthered the formal introductions:

"And here is my daughter Leonor."

"Señorita, it's an honour to make your acquaintance. And dare I say, you're a real little sunshine here..." he added with a nice smile.

Araceli nudged her daughter:

"Leonor, don't be rude and thank Don Carlos, mi amor..."

She nodded and let out a very shy "Gracias, Señor."

"Alejandro, we didn't see you or your son at Don Virgilio's dinner party yesterday..."

"Oh, he gave a dinner party? I didn't know..."

Realising his faux pas a bit too late, Don Carlos graciously told him:

"But I understand that you and your son were better in the radiant company of these two fine ladies," he nodded at Araceli and her daughter, "than in that of fogeys like the rest of us!"

After that, he politely took his leave from them.

"Señora, it had been a pleasure... Señorita Leonor, I look forward to meeting you again," he said with a benign smile.

After he left, an awkward silence fell over the adults around the table, while the little girl was totally oblivious to the subtext behind the short conversation that just took place between Don Carlos and her father.

Araceli had a poor gentle smile while she slowly reached for Alejandro's hand in sympathy and squeezed it gently and supportively. Diego had a sad look in his eyes and shared it with Felipe, who sighed gloomily.

Victoria's heart went out to them, and especially to Don Alejandro: poor man, some of his acquaintances now turned their backs on him, some of those who had always been so eager to be seen with the most prominent caballero around and made a point of rubbing shoulders with him now shunned him.

 _Him_ and, by extension, _Don_ _Diego_.

Poor Don Alejandro! Fortunately, she reflected, not everyone seemed to be so judgmental: Don Carlos for instance, contrary to Don Virgilio, seemed to still esteem and be friends with them; he had even been courteous to Doña Araceli, and kind to young Leonor.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Victoria, your poached figs were delicious, congratulations," Diego said rather awkwardly, coming to the counter with Felipe in tow. He barely dared look at her face and was staring at the wooden surface of the bar instead.

She bit her lower lip a bit, expectantly watching any other reaction from him.

"Gracias Don Diego," she simply said by way of polite lip service. Cooking recipes was not at all what she wanted to be discussing with him right now.

Felipe nodded in agreement, showing his appreciation of the dessert.

"Gracias, Felipe."

Leonor had been following the young man and stood on tiptoe to be able to look beyond the wood of the counter.

"Yes, I loved it!" she told Victoria, adding her own praise to the chorus.

"Muchas gracias Señorita, I'm glad you did," Victoria replied, grinning at the little girl.

Then Felipe went to eavesdrop a bit near the soldiers' table five or six feet away from there, and Leonor followed him like a shadow.

"Err..." Victoria started to say, "your sister seems to be fascinated by Felipe today..." she remarked just for the sake of starting a seemingly idle conversation.

"Uh... yes. I guess she is intrigued by his deafness..." he replied in a low voice for fear Felipe would hear him. "She asked my father about it yesterday. Probably a novelty to her, she hadn't ever thought some people couldn't ear or speak just like anyone else."

"Hmm..." she said distractedly.

Diego gathered his strength and finally raised his eyes to meet hers. Oh dear, her look was so full of anticipation! He hated himself for not saying 'yes' right there and then.

"Err... Victoria..." he told her barely above a murmur. "I'm sorry but I don't have any answer to give you just yet about... you know what... Sorry."

She did her best to hide her disappointment and didn't let her face fell. Only a small light in her eyes went out, but she put on a brave face and offered him a kind but faint and strained smile.

"Of course Don Diego, of course... It's a bit too early for you. I understand..."

She looked away, and wrung her dish towel.

A very awkward silence settled between the two.

That's how a minor argument between two soldiers playing cards managed to reach their ears:

"Hey, don't cheat, you bastard!"

Victoria immediately turned to the man who had just spoken and, putting her hands on her hips, she scolded him in a severe tone of voice:

"This is a reputable house here, Señor, so please watch your tongue. And above all, I'd like you not to use such a language in the presence of a child!" she added, nodding pointedly in Leonor's direction, probably eager to show Diego that she would make a good and respectable mother to his child.

"Oh, don't be so uptight, Señorita... I'm sure the little one here doesn't even know the word, so she can't have been shocked!"

"Of course I know the word!" Leonor proudly interjected. "I know what it means: it's someone whose parents are not married with each other! Just like me," she innocently added.

_Oh Dios mio!_

Doña Araceli went white as a sheet, Don Alejandro's breath caught in his chest, and Diego's features looked ghostly. Felipe laid a protective or supportive hand on the child's shoulder. Mouth agape, Victoria stared at the little girl; so much bright innocence had the merit to shut up the foolish soldier who shrunk on his chair, humbled by such simplicity and ingenuousness.

But a few tables away from there, Don Alejandro had stood up and was slowly walking towards the man, his face now red with indignation. Beside him, Señora Valdès had laid a calming hand on his elbow, trying to keep him in check and from doing anything foolish he would later regret.

Well, it worked only partially: Don Alejandro reached the man's table anyway, but at least he didn't openly shout at him. He leaned to him and told him something that only the man and Felipe's well-trained ears managed to catch:

"If you ever have a problem with my daughter's origins and parentage, Señor, or with Señorita Escalante's rules inside her establishment, I'd be grateful if you wouldn't take it out on my child or on her mother, and certainly _not_ in their presence; but if you absolutely want to sort it out, I'm at your service, _outside_ this tavern and _away_ from the ladies' presence..."

And, careful that Araceli wouldn't see his move, he discreetly but pointedly put his hand on the guard of his sword.

The soldier's eyes grew wide.

"Don Alejandro," the man said, horrified by the turn his slip of the tongue was taking, "I swear I didn't mean... It wasn't a comment about... I swear it just slipped–"

"I think you have sworn enough for today, Señor," Alejandro said in a loud voice.

"Si... si of course. My apologies, Señorita Escalante, young Señorita... My sincerest apologies to all ladies here, I should have watched my language of course..."

Felipe then wisely took Leonor outside to get some fresh air away from the heavy atmosphere of the scene they just witnessed, and also to play a bit: she needed to spend the excess of her juvenile energy.

Satisfied, Don Alejandro went back to his table, escorted by Doña Araceli. He told her:

"You are right after all, my dear: dialogue and diplomacy make wonders, so much more than anger and threats..."

But he didn't fool her one bit, and she eyed him very suspiciously:

"And may I know what very diplomatic words you used to convince this man...? Oh, by the way... you can remove your hand from your sword," she added with a scolding frown, "I think he has learned the lesson."

 _Oh bother!_ He had forgotten. That had really been worth hiding his gesture from her earlier! Old fool... He could tell she wasn't very happy with him.

"I should be cross with you for this, but right now I'm more concerned about Leonor... I knew she had already heard this, and even worse... and truly about her these times, but still..."

She paused, looking grim, and she sighed.

"Hearing her talk about this so... naively!"

She had a poor little smile.

"It's refreshing that she doesn't realise people's malice yet," Araceli then said, "but... it concerns me: she will soon be seven, she'll be old enough to understand and become aware of certain things... of some people's behaviour..."

Alejandro too made a sad face, and he took both her hands in support.

"I've had my share of this, even though it has died down a bit in the last years..." she went on. "You'd think people have come to terms with it, have moved on to something else, except a few exceptions. But whatever... as long as it's aimed only at me, I can manage, I'm old enough to take this or to take them down a peg or two... But if it's aimed at _her_... If _she_ becomes their target... For God's sake, she's just a child! How could decent adult people pick on her?"

She sighed again. She suddenly felt a pressing need to rest her forehead on Alejandro's shoulder, but they were in a public place and had an audience: she had manners and knew how to behave...

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her, but she pushed it aside.

"No, I'm certainly not going to cry..." she said fiercely. "But it's just... Honestly, couldn't people just mind their own business? I don't mind theirs, so why do they think they should mind mine!"

Araceli was clearly upset, and Alejandro was equally angered. But strangely he didn't burst out and vent off. On the contrary, he seemed to decide, for once, that soothing her was more important than adding fuel to the fire. Since when did she have such a calming effect on him? That was new: in the past – and even the _very recent_ past – her presence had rather heightened his own emotions and fuelled the fire in him... whatever kind of fire it was!

Was he becoming reasonable? _Ow_ , he thought, probably the real beginning of old age...

He reached over the table, took her hands in his own, raised them to his lips and gently, soothingly kissed them – and to hell with their audience! After all by now, all of Los Angeles knew that much more than this chaste and friendly kissing of her hands happened between the two of them some seven years ago!

Too bad Victoria didn't witness this display of intimacy, it might have made her doubt her theories about Araceli's sights on Alejandro's son.

But Victoria Escalante was currently very busy _not_ looking Diego in his eyes. So much awkwardness again! Really, couldn't she behave normally with him, until he gives her his answer?

And how long before he finally does? Two more days? One whole week? Two?

The whole month...?

And the unpleasant scene they just witnessed... Don Diego was probably thinking that this was what would await his child if he ever ventured a 'yes' to what she asked him...

And would _she_ be able to help her child put up with this kind of reactions, of reflections...?

She sighed, ridden with doubts.

"Victoria, you know that Leonor's mother is into the business of wine trading, among other things..." Diego finally told her, trying to revive a normal conversation of some sort between them. "Would you mind her having a look at your cellar? She said she was interested in it; some case of job conditioning I suppose, I'm sure you know how it is..."

No need to worry her with this matter of sour Madeira just now, Diego thought.

"Yes," Victoria replied, "I can understand this... Well, she's welcome to take a look around it, although I'm sure she'll be a bit disappointed: it's only a modest tavern I'm running, after all."

"Thank you for her, Victoria. I'll show her the way."

W-what? Oh, she hadn't thought that _he_ would end up alone with that woman in a secluded and closed remote room...

"Perhaps you two should take Leonor or Felipe with you..." Victoria suggested. "You know, just to prevent malicious gossips... As a chaperone of some sort..."

Diego stared at her looking flabbergasted and then his face changed completely and he burst out laughing:

"Oh really Victoria," he said between chuckles, "you were so straight-faced, for one or two seconds you almost got me!"

 _Dear Victoria,_ he thought warmly, to help dissipate the awkwardness between them she had chosen to joke with him! She was so funny when she used deadpan humour and dry wit!


	55. Ch 55 - A hint of envy

Araceli was tossing and turning in her bed, and turning over and over in her mind the three names Don Diego had been told by this Zorro fellow and repeated to her:

 _Frederico Beltrán_. Never heard of him, as far as she could recall.

 _Pedro Vidal_. Hmm. It vaguely brought to her mind the memory of a young boy. But no, the Pedro she was reminded of must still be a kid, right? He was probably... what... fourteen, fifteen? Hmm... all things considered, perhaps time had gone by a bit more than she thought... Could he rather be around twenty years old now? She couldn't tell precisely, she hadn't heard of the boy in a long time...

 _Aymar Bahamontes_. She didn't know him, but she knew a _Félix_ Bahamontes. One of her employees. A relative of his? Would explain how he got Leonor's father's name and address, or how he got word of her sudden and unplanned departure to Los Angeles just after a messenger from there visited her.

Once back in San Diego, she'd have to investigate whether Señor Bahamontes had anything to do with blackmailing Alejandro and abducting Leonor. And if he had, then may the Lord protect him from her wrath! But investigating was not her area of expertise; perhaps Leandro could help her in that matter? After all, it might as well be useful to have a former lover in the garrison, and she had more or less remained friends with Lieutenant Alcalá after they broke up. He'd certainly agree to help her identify and catch the mastermind behind this plot against her 'left-hand' family.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

In the tavern's cellar, Zorro was silently inspecting Victoria's stock of wine and other beverage. None of the barrels seemed to have been tampered with and the bottles' corks were intact. If anyone had fiddled with these beverages, it had occurred _before_ it was either bottled or poured into barrel, or _after_ she broached the barrel.

Or perhaps Doña Araceli was right and there had just been a problem with one of her suppliers, on rather with one bottle from her supplier... After all, she hadn't found anything unusual either when she inspected Victoria's cellar. He hadn't wanted to alarm her so he didn't examined the tavern's wine further in the Señora's presence: he just made a mental note to have Zorro pay it a discreet and thorough nightly visit a few hours later, which is why he was currently here instead of quietly and comfortably nestled in his bed.

All right. Everything seemed to be very normal in this cellar, so time to go to sleep... He reached the kitchen's backdoor, opened it and whistled for Tornado. A few seconds later, sounds of hoofbeats could be heard, and his black stallion appeared round the corner.

Zorro had already exited the tavern and walked a few steps to the horse, who had stopped some feet away from the door. The man had even put his foot in the stirrup when he heard someone call his name in a discreet whisper:

"Señor Zorro..."

On alert, he turned around and looked for whoever saw and called him.

"Psst," the whispering voice said again, "here, upstairs!"

Zorro raised his head to look up: Victoria was at her window, white ghostly shadow floating above him in the inky sea of the pueblo's dark nightly sky.

He thought he hadn't made much noise, but apparently Victoria had been sleeping with her window opened, because of the heat. Or, well, _not_ sleeping, as it seemed. Or perhaps Tornado's gallop had woken her?

"Señorita!" he whispered in turn, "I'm sorry if my horse troubled your sleep... Please accept my apologies," he added, bowing.

"Oh, no harm done" she replied, "I wasn't sleeping anyway..."

"Anything troubling your peace of mind?"

 _Idiot!_ he chastised himself. Of course something was troubling her: she had asked him – no, not _him_ , but _Diego!_ – to be the father of her child, and she was still waiting for his answer!

"As a matter of fact, yes," she answered truthfully. "And perhaps you could help me with that... I can't see anyone else to ask for this..."

 _Oh?_ Did she change her mind? About _Diego_ , of course. And did he really feel relieved about this, or rather... disappointed?

"But I can't tell you this here, through this window... and in the middle of the street. Couldn't you please get in here for a few minutes?"

He nodded and she took two steps back. With a few moves, almost out of habit, he was upstairs and inside Victoria's bedroom and he sent back Tornado into hiding.

"What is it, mi querida?" he asked her in a low voice after he closed the window.

"Erm... I'm glad you're here..." she started, while closing the shutter and lighting a candle.

He noted that for once she didn't rush into his arms to steal him a kiss. The atmosphere was clearly different from that of the last time they were both in his room! But he also noticed that she didn't seem to resent him for his hasty exit: he took this as a good sign.

With a wave of his hand he invited her to go on with what she had to ask him. He tried to look nonchalant, but if it was what he thought it would be, then he wouldn't look the part very long anymore! A bit worried inwardly, he waited for her to elaborate.

"You see..." she said, "I sort of... put myself into some... situation."

She looked away.

"A slightly bit... thorny one..." she added.

 _Oh Dios!_ She regretted asking him – _him-Diego_ , that is, not him-Zorro – and she didn't want him anymore. _Him-Diego_ , again. Something cold and heavy suddenly and unexpectedly fell down the pit of his stomach. His heart, maybe? Well, no: his heart was currently probably much lower, somewhere in his boots.

Oh that was all so confusing! Why did he have to make his own life so complicated! Why did he entangle his two lives so much!

And now she wanted him – _him-Zorro_ , this time – to help her take back her offer to him-Diego. And would even perhaps present the same deal to him-Zorro. Openly, this time.

 _Oh dear!_ Could the situation and his life get even messier?

"I... uh..." Victoria said a bit hesitantly, "erm... it's about one of my customers..."

Under the mask, Diego raised an eyebrow: a _customer?_ Was it really all he was to her?

Without realising it, he folded his arms, a bit defensively so.

"A customer?" he finally said.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Don Alejandro's... erm... how to say... uh... 'guest'. The señora from San Diego."

 _Huh?_ He didn't see that one coming. _What's with Doña Araceli?_

"Is... is anything the matter with her?" he asked, totally baffled.

"Well I... It's just that she is... And I..."

She paused in her very unclear explanation to collect herself and gather her wits. Then she settled on Zorro a rather sheepish look and very reluctantly confessed:

"Well, in fact... I might have... er... spiked her drink a bit...?"

_What?!_

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, taken aback by this highly unexpected admission.

"I... er... I mean she... well I... poured a few drops of vinegar in her drink, and now she is snooping around to find why one of the wines she sold me was adulterated! I didn't know then that she was one of my suppliers, and if I had known, I would have never... Well, whatever, she apologised profusely about the lack of quality of her product, and now she is very insistent on finding the source of the problem! I know it's all my fault, and it's the backlash I deserved, but..."

Victoria let out a sigh.

"I told her it was nothing really, not a big deal," she went on, "but she won't give up! She will leave no stone unturned until she gets to the bottom of this and finds out what happened to the Madeira, what it is all about! Yet I can't tell her what truly happened! So you see the kind of predicament I've put myself into... Oh Dios mio, what a prize idiot I've been!"

Zorro was completely stunned. And why on earth did Victoria tamper with her own wine? Why did she want to alter and spoil its taste before serving it to a complete stranger?

"But why did you do that, to begin with?" he couldn't help but ask her.

She sighed again. Heavily.

"I know... it was utterly stupid and completely childish, but..."

He looked at her questioningly, waiting for whatever explanation was to come.

"But... well, the first time it was because of you..."

"Of _me?_ " he asked, astounded. "What on earth have I to do with–"

"No! No, I mean... I had heard that she had called for the soldiers when you were in the church the other day... She had tried to get you arrested, and I suddenly had the mental image of you and gallows and a rope, and..."

She paused, wincing.

"And I didn't think, I acted on impulse," she went on. "She ordered a glass of wine and I just... added some vinegar in it. To punish her, I guess. Don't worry, it wouldn't have done any harm to her, just... well, just some heartburn..."

Another pause, another sigh.

"I know it was childish."

Zorro too agreed with that, but he prudently chose not to voice his opinion on that matter aloud. Instead he said:

"At least it was sweet of you to side with me. But as a matter of fact, Señora Ximénez, or _Valdès_ , or whatever, finally sided with me too. In the end. In fact, instead of wanting to have me arrested she artfully protected my escape, without anyone suspecting it."

"Did she really?" Victoria asked, visibly surprised.

"Yes she did. Truly. I assure you she helped me escape the church, thanks to the padre. And she did her best to slow the soldier down before he could see what direction I was taking. I must even say that it was nicely and cunningly done!"

"Oh no, you too have fallen under that woman's spell!" Victoria exclaimed, rather peeved and a bit crestfallen. "Honestly, what does she have that we don't?"

 _Except a tendency to easily get horizontal,_ she spitefully added inwardly, but with more than a bit of envy although she didn't want to admit it.

"First Don Alejandro," Victoria started to list, "then Don Diego, and now you! She–"

"I'm certainly NOT under anyone's spell!" he cut her short. "Except yours, of course. And absolutely not this woman's. Nor is Don Diego," he said forcefully. "I'm sure," he added more prudently.

"Humph, you haven't seen him whenever she's around: he's suddenly all smiles and doe eyes and charming and... Pfff, really!"

_Huh...? Am I...? No, I don't think so. Then when and why did she imagine that?_

"And she is no better," Victoria added, "flirting with him and trying to charm him..."

 _Wow_ , Diego thought, Victoria really had a very fertile imagination, coming up with all this out of... well, absolutely nothing!

After what he had stumbled upon a few nights before, Zorro was very well placed to know that Diego wasn't the one Doña Araceli had set her sights on. Of course, Victoria hadn't witnessed – or rather _heard_ – this disturbing scene, so she couldn't suspect, but... she _did_ know that the woman had had a child with his father, that they had a relationship in the past, so this simple fact would in itself exclude any possibility of what she was implying, right?

"He doesn't make any doe eyes or whatever at this girl!" he denied forcibly. "He just– I mean, I'm sure he's just being polite with her: after all, she is his father's guest, and she now is sort of part of his family, in a way... She is his sister's mother, and he likes this child." He stated. "Probably," he hastily added.

"He certainly does," Victoria admitted. "But I don't like to see him consort with someone who has such a reputation!"

 _Oh,_ so now she cared again about reputations? That's not what she implied during her recent talk with him – or rather with Diego. He was at a loss.

"She'd better not try any move on him," Victoria stated, "or..."

"Or...?"

"Well, if he is too blind and too unsuspecting to see it, we'll have to keep our eyes open for him."

" _'We'_...? _'Our'_...?" Zorro asked, expressing his surprise at hearing her include him in her own little groundless crusade.

"And I... er... well, I guess I was a bit annoyed at her about that too, that's also why... why I spiked her drink again; but now as I said she's bent on finding out why the wine her company sold me has gone sour! What a mess!"

"Er... I'd hate to sound lecturing or preachy Victoria, but... Well, for a tavern owner... tampering one's own wine to purposely make it taste worse... way to shoot oneself in the foot!"

"You're not helping, there," she told him, looking daggers at him.

 _Right_ , he thought, but he couldn't help himself.

"Look," she went on, "I know it was completely stupid and childish, but what's done is done and now I'm in my right mind again, all right? And I'm asking for your help. I can't have her find out how the Madeira came to taste that way: what would Don Alejandro think of me?! He'd think I have a bad opinion of his daughter's mother, and he'd think me petty, and what I did was so silly that I wouldn't dare look him in the eyes. Or Don Diego, for that matter."

Victoria didn't add for what other matter she precisely needed Diego to think her the opposite of childish and stupid, but of course the man behind the mask had been thinking about hardly anything else since she presented him her surprising proposition!

But then another thought occurred to him as he recalled what she had told him about what she did, about her motivations and about what she thought she read in his few interactions with Doña Araceli. He tilted his head to the side and looked at her. Inwardly he was feeling halfway between smug and hopeful. A strange mix of the two. But outwardly he tried – and failed a bit – to just sound teasing when he told her:

"I can't believe you spiked her drink with vinegar because of Don Diego..."

She just shrugged, and then replied:

"Well, we're not going to hold on forth about that, are we? I know what I did, I know it wasn't worthy of a grown up like me, and I regret it. Can't we rather just fix the current situation I've put myself into and then forget about it?!"

But Zorro – or rather _Diego_ – wasn't ready to drop it just yet:

"Would you by any chance be... well... a little bit... uh... _jealous_...?"

This visibly caught Victoria off guard. But she immediately did her best to regain her self-control.

" _Jealous?_ Me?" she all but spat out, almost indignant.

Then she frowned a bit and put her hands on her hips.

"Hell, yes!" she then said to Diego's utmost surprise. "Jealous? Of a successful and independent businesswoman who makes enough of a living with her own work not to ever have to worry about the future and about her old days? Who is a mother, who has a healthy and loving child, who is getting on very well with her daughter's father? Of a woman who has a _real_ love life? Who leads her life as she wants? Hell, of course I'm jealous of her! Green with envy!"

Once the first surprise at Victoria's tirade faded, Zorro didn't miss the barely veiled reproach aimed at him about having a 'real' love life. But he didn't miss either that she eluded his real question, which had been more about Diego than about Araceli; and Victoria could steer the conversation in another direction, try as she might Diego knew she got his question quite well.

And apparently she knew she didn't totally wag the dog, because she added:

"But jealous over Don Diego...? Oh, come on!" she said a bit too forcefully.

Yes, a bit too forcefully, he thought: _after all, it's not like you've asked him to give you a child!_ But of course, Zorro wasn't supposed to know that, and it became clear to him that she didn't intend to inform him of this. At least not tonight.

 _Or perhaps she changed her mind?_ His earlier questioning went back full force. Did the man behind the mask hope she did, or did he _fear_ she did?

Victoria apparently saw Zorro's hesitation, and she did her best to reassure him:

"You know you're the one I love... the only one I would be jealous over! But Don Diego... he's a good man, and a friend, and I just worry about... Well, considering her... _link_ to his father, the nature of the connexion between them, you know as well as I do that nothing good could come out of a... a _relationship_ between Don Diego and this woman. I don't want him to be unhappy, that's all," she stated. "Or Don Alejandro," she hastily added. "And I don't want things to be strained or tense again between the two of them. It would make me sad. I guess that's what friendship is about!!"

Victoria was happy with her clarification. Yes, that was the reason. Aside from being annoyed to see a woman hang round the man she intended to put in her bed. Well, even though it wasn't about love or a relationship or anything between Don Diego and herself, she was too unsure of her own charm and of his answer to come to be totally alright with seeing a woman grow close to him for the moment.

But she noted that her reassurance seemed to have an unexpected effect on Zorro: he appeared to be rather... _downhearted?_ How strange, she reflected. She couldn't grasp the logic behind that.

Well, whatever.

"So," she then said, "what do you suggest to help me provide an explanation to the wine growing sour that wouldn't have Señora Valdès inspect all her stock, question all her customers or even seek redress on her suppliers?"

"Hmm, and I suppose that the pure and unadulterated truth is simply out of the question...?" he suggested, a bit smugly.

She shot him a glare:

"I'd rather not look like the petty fool here, thank you very much!"

He suppressed an amused smile.

"Well," he said, "I'll think about it, I promise, and I'll try to come up with something. Now Señorita, if you don't need me for anything else, I think I'd better be on my way..."

"And what have you come into town for tonight, in the first place?"

Well, he couldn't really tell her that he had been rummaging through her cellar for almost a whole hour! Especially now that he knew the how and the why about her wine... He chose to play it mysterious:

"Well, I can't tell you as of yet... Later perhaps."

She was a bit disappointed by this answer and pouted a little bit, but for once she didn't argue further: she was the one who had asked for his help, and beggars can't be choosers!

Zorro opened the window, and the moon was now lighting the bell tower of the church. It reminded him of the promise Padre Benitez had him make.

 _Confessing_.

Ugh. Hidden behind the mask, he made a face under the black satin.

But he knew he had to: he wasn't very proud of what he had done, and it was an offense to the sacrality of priesthood and of the confessional. It was weighing on him, and he knew he had to lay down part of this heavy burden in the secret of this same confessional.

Pfff, just a rough moment to get through, he told himself to try and give him the courage to go seek the padre's forgiveness. Without explaining his true motivations for what he did, of course, or else the secrecy of his identity wouldn't be so secret anymore to Padre Benitez!

A rough moment to get through, yes, and the sooner the better! After all, the padre 'invited' him to confess at a time that would be convenient to him... Did he think then that for Zorro, this convenient time might very well be the middle of the night? And, most importantly, wouldn't Padre Benitez be in a slightly less forgiving mood if he was pulled out of bed at such an ungodly hour?

Hmm... this was quite the dilemma.

Oh, well, _the sooner the better_ Zorro repeated himself, deciding to go to the padre right then. He jumped over the windowsill away from Victoria and into the dark of the night.


	56. Ch 56 - Three months, two weeks and three days

_After is hasty departure – escape? – from San Diego, Alejandro remained in the safety of Los Angeles and far away from Araceli Ximénez's appealing charm and bewitching garden for at least three months. And a half. Plus three days._

_He couldn't get himself to ride to San Diego and managed the business matters he had to take care of over there through mail only, instead of going on with the regular trips he had been making there every two or three months._

_It was the wise thing to do, he reasoned, for once overlooking the fact that he generally called 'cowardly' what some other people qualified as a 'wise' behaviour. And perhaps a very tiny part of him was telling him that he was simply chickening out, but for once he stifled it, with a slight bit of a guilty conscience, though._

_Yes, it was the wise thing to do, letting things rest and subside, until the situation reverts to normal and he and Doña Araceli can face each other again without any awkwardness and resume their strictly business-related talks and harmless banter._

_Yes, things would be better that way: just letting water flow under the bridge, and forget everything. If he'd ever dare face her again, that is._

_Or perhaps he could also never go back to her... He could as well manage his business through mail!_

_But he still hasn't dared write her a letter, even a strictly business-related one. Or a written apology. For taking advantage and kissing her of course, not for leaving! Yet he wasn't too proud of running away just afterwards either..._

_Hmm...yes, the best course of action, the only thing to do, the_ wise _thing to do here was to leave this mistake behind and forget everything, he had decided. That's how he chose to bury his head in the sand, so to speak._

_And yet, somewhere in a hidden drawer of his mahogany secretaire, a rose had wilted and withered over the first days after his return, and its bright orange colour had faded to a very pale brown._

_When he had checked out of the San Diego's inn in haste, he found it still pinned to his jacket, and he couldn't get himself to throw it away in the trash bin, with the garbage. He told himself he'd discard it in the desert, somewhere along the path, or at his nightly stop-over in San Juan Capistrano... and when he reached Los Angeles, the orange rose was still in his breast pocket, wilted and crumpled. Oh, well, he'd just throw it out in his bedroom's wastebasket, then!_

_But for three months and a half, plus one day, the flower had just been lying in a drawer hidden behind the secret panel of a secretaire in Alejandro de la Vega's bedroom._

_Bah, he'd just discard it later, when he has time!_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Three months and a half – plus three days – after Don Alejandro's last trip to San Diego, young Felipe was bringing back the mail from the pueblo, as he often did. Perusing the envelopes, he noticed a handwriting he knew well by now, and his heart leaped in his chest: another letter from Diego!_

_He smiled broadly, and noted that the envelope was very thick: Diego certainly included a letter for him too along with the one addressed to Don Alejandro..._

_The boy hurried back home, eager to read from his patrón's son; and Don Alejandro would certainly be happy too, so the sooner the better! As the acute observer he had become due to his impairment, Felipe had noticed that Don Alejandro had been having a swinging mood lately, and he hoped that hearing from his son would get the man into one of his happy days._

_Once home, Felipe quickly sought Don Alejandro, who was in his study, and he all but thrust the pile of letters in his hands. With Diego's on top of it._

_As the boy predicted, Don Alejandro's eyes lit up at the sight of Diego's handwriting, and he glanced at Felipe with a bright smile adorning his face, mirroring the boy's one._

_"Yes Felipe", the child could see the man's lips say, "fresh news from Diego again!"_

_Despite not hearing the words, he understood these perfectly and smiled from ear to ear, nodding._

_But before opening his son's letter, Don Alejandro idly perused through the other envelopes, just like Felipe did earlier. And when he saw the nice ivory envelope which smooth and thick paper Felipe had admired on the way back from the pueblo, the boy could see his patrón's hands stop their move and shake a very slight bit._

_Then he hastily put it at the bottom of the pile, buried under the others. This lasted barely half a second, but as said earlier, Felipe was_ very _observant of what was happening around him._

_Which did not mean he always understood what it was about, though._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

'...and if my relative forwardness is what kept you away from my house these past weeks, I beg you to reconsider. I would hate for my reaction at the time to mar or jeopardise the rest of our otherwise harmonious relationship and amity, and to weigh on its future. If I was mistaken and my overtures were unwelcome, if I erred in thinking they wouldn't be, then please let's just put it behind us; I beg you to believe that my intentions have never been to force you into anything against your wish, to impose on you. I can hear that I'm not the kind of woman you are attracted to, don't worry about that.

But please remember that we are both adults and can face the situation as such, and not just hide from it and from each other after what happened. Of course we can still talk business and settle business-related matters through mail only, but I honestly think that we are both better than that and that we deserve better. I therefore dare hope for you to agree with me on that point and to come visit me during your next sojourn in San Diego, if ever there _is_ a next soj–'

_Alejandro felt an insistent nudge on his forearm._

_"Yes Felipe?" he forced out of his lips, tearing himself from his umpteenth re-reading of Doña Araceli's missive to look at the boy. "What is it?"_

_Felipe was handing him a drawing that Diego had included in his epistle. It represented the façades of three adjacent buildings in a street: one house at the centre, and one on each side. Some vegetation could also be seen, as well as the pavement of the street._

_Felipe made the sign he used for Diego, then he did as if he was cradling a baby in his arms and drew a question mark in the air._

_"Yes Felipe, as I told you, that's his birthplace in Madrid, the house where he was born, just like he wrote in his letter," Alejandro said with a sweet nostalgic smile._

_Felipe was glad to see his patrón's face go from pensive to smiling. Mood swings indeed..._

_"It's nice he found it and went there..." the older man added, smiling wider. "I'm glad he did. So many memories... even if not for him: he was far too young of course, still a baby then."_

_But Felipe's face, contrary to his, went sombre; almost sad._

_"What is it, Felipe? What's wrong?"_

_The child pointed at himself, then made the sign for 'baby', for 'house', and then a question mark again, with his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast._

_"I know, Felipe, I don't know either where your birthplace is. We never will... I'm sorry for you. But," Don Alejandro then said, putting down the letter he had been reading and standing in front of the child to lay both hands on the child's shoulders, "I can tell you where your home is_ now _. Now and in the future." He gently cupped the boy's chin with his right hand. "Right here," he simply mouthed._

_Felipe had the sweetest smile and dared encircle Don Alejandro's middle with both arms, burying his face in his chest._

_The man ruffled the boy's hair with one hand and then he sat back in his armchair, resuming his reading while Felipe happily trotted out of the room._

' _..._ if ever there _is_ a next sojourn...'

_Don Alejandro's features fell again. He sighed. Mainly at himself. At his own lack of maturity. And despite her chosen, respectful and gentle words, Señora Ximénez de Valdès precisely though implicitly called him out on that. He had run away. From what he did. From her._

_She also made clear that she mistook his feelings and assured him they would start again on safer ground. Told him in her own elegant words that she understood his lack of attraction, and didn't resent it. Lack of attraction, really? How on earth could she think he didn't find her attractive? In his opinion and now that he had tasted that fruit, Alejandro thought that every normal man in the world should want to kiss her, and to kiss her again. And again._

_In fact and if he dared be totally honest with himself, he_ did _want to kiss her again. Which was totally wrong, of course. He knew that. A girl like her... A man like himself... Preposterous. He probably hadn't been in his right mind that night; too much good wine, otherwise he would have never..._

'They' _hadn't been in their right mind, and_ 'they' _would have never, he corrected: after all, she too... well, she even_ asked _for him to–_

_He sighed. She was right on one thing: he was a gown man, for Heaven's sake, not some faltering teenager or frightened child, hiding from his faults or errors, shirking responsibility for his deeds. Hiding away in his den like a fox in his lair or a rat in his hole and ignoring her wouldn't do any good either to his business or to the matter at hand._

_Lack of maturity indeed, but enough with that! She was right: he wasn't going to let this minor incident get the better of him and keep him from attending to his business as he should!_

_He'd go back there, no later than... well, than tomorrow! Departure at dawn._

_No more 'lack of maturity'. Well, 'lack of maturity' or... or 'cowardice', a little insidious voice murmured somewhere in his mind. Cowardice, really? No, no way! Alejandro de la Vega had never been a coward, and no de la Vega would ever be!_

_He had never been a coward, and he had certainly never, ever been afraid of a girl!_

_...Right?_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_The morning after, at dawn, Alejandro set off to San Diego._

_Big mistake..._


	57. Ch 57 - Damocles

Diego de la Vega was feeling torn.

On the one hand, he longed for a child, for children, for starting a family. Just like anyone, he yearned to cuddle a toddler in his lap, to hold his baby in his arms, to kiss or ruffle a mop of soft dark hair, to tell bedtime stories and see his child grow up year after year into a youth and then an adult.

On the other hand he knew that in his current situation, he had no right to shoulder such a responsibility. Not when he could be discovered and arrested or even killed just any day.

Alone, staring at the ceiling over his bed, he sighed heavily.

One the one hand, Diego de la Vega very much wanted to make love with Victoria Escalante. On the other hand though, he had no right to burden her with the child she asked him to give her if – ' _when'?_ – he were to die at a early age. And dishonoured as an outlaw and a bandit in the eyes of the Crown, what's more!

He didn't only have Sir Edmund's sword, he reflected: he also had quite the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head!

Another heavy sigh. Of course she didn't know about that last part: to her, he was Diego de la Vega, who never put himself in any kind of danger and who, thanks to a very quiet and studious lifestyle, would probably live a long and safe existence. How could she suspect...?

Deep down he knew what he _should_ choose to do, he knew what he _wanted_ to do, and the bane of his life was that these two things were not the same; and even, they were diametrically contrary.

Yes or no?

Child or no child?

Victoria or celibacy?

Family or bachelorhood?

Father or righter of wrongs?

Father or hero?

Father or fighter?

Father or outlaw?

... ... ...

...Diego or Zorro?

But yes, how could she suspect...? How could she guess the dilemma her proposition faced him with? How could she know the impossible situation she put him into?

 _Well,_ he admitted inwardly, _he_ started it: he first put her into an impossible situation. Waiting for Zorro to be free to unmask hadn't been intended at first as a several-years-long matter, far from it. But when weeks have started to turn into months, he didn't let go of her, he didn't give up his flirtation, his _pursuit_ of her. Quite the contrary: he was starting to wonder whether, deep down, he hadn't secretly enjoyed the game: courting a girl who was interested in him, and being sure it wasn't because of his wealth, or his name, or his social status... stealing kisses... complimenting her and being sure he would be the one setting the pace, and for good reason! She could hardly hunt him down or in the contrary get bored of his company, they spent so little time together!

But he had fallen hard for her, and had been caught at his own game: he too couldn’t get enough of her, of her company, of the very few moments spent with her _as her sweetheart_ rather as her mere acquaintance Diego, he too became addicted; and when months then turned into years, instead of setting her free once and for all – the wise and unselfish thing to do – on the contrary he had tried to trap her even more in his web by asking for her hand in marriage, for later, _always_ later, and by invisibly tying her to him with a secret engagement.

He sighed again, not very happy with himself.

What if Zorro had set her free years ago? Would she have stopped overlooking Diego de la Vega? Would she have considered him? Would he have dared ask for her permission to court her? And if so, would she really have turned him down...?

Well, he'll never know the answers to these questions, since he didn't let go of her, didn't give her a chance to set herself free. Just like when she almost married Juan Ortiz, dreaming of a normal life, and a husband, and a family. Of _children_ , even then...

And now? Did he have the right, morally speaking, to deny her this maternity, to deprive her from these long-awaited children, just because _he_ had engaged in some endless crusade, because _he_ felt he had a – _self-appointed_ – mission?

Was he morally allowed to put _her_ life on standby?

He would hate himself if she thought she was finally nothing else in this world than the 'hero's welcome', the warrior's enjoyment.

And now she seemed to have taken a grip on her life and made her own decisions. Rather drastic ones, but 'desperate times, desperate measures'... He knew he drove her there, so now and more than anyone else, he owed it to her, in a way...

Yet, he was not only Diego but also Zorro, he was still an outlaw. What will happen when he is finally caught? No one wants to grow up bearing the weight of being a bandit's son or daughter: quite an unwelcome and heavy heritage...

Pfff... So, what should he do?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Araceli hadn't slept well. She was worrying about the quality of the goods she was selling, she was worrying for the reputation of her company, she was worried for the future of her business – her only source of income, without which she'd have to cadge from her family and live on their charity, reduced to begging from them, living off them just like Don Diego lived off his father! – she was worrying about her husband's secret, but most of all, she was worrying about Leonor's safety.

What of those three men who had escaped the searches? At least now that their identities were known, they were still on the lam and couldn't quietly resume their earlier activities and just get away with what they did while still being a threat to her daughter, but what if it hadn't been just these four men alone? What if they had been having some aiding and abetting, some complicities in her or Alejandro's circle of acquaintances? Or even worse, some still hidden mastermind behind these schemes somewhere in San Diego?

Quite the Sword of Damocles over Leonor's head!

And did the Félix Bahamontes she knew over there have any link with the Aymar Bahamontes who took part in Leonor's kidnapping, or not at all?

And here in Los Angeles, what of this masked black-clad bandit? She shuddered at the idea of her deepest secret depending on this stranger's silence and benevolence. In any situation, she hated not being the one holding the cards, it was making her feel vulnerable. And she also hated not knowing her opponent.

Over breakfast she was absentmindedly sipping her chocolate without tasting it, her mind completely elsewhere. Alejandro seemed to take notice of this and gently asked her if anything was wrong. Dearest Alejandro!

"I'm just hoping they'll catch these men very soon, that's all," she half-lied.

He reached for her hand and lightly squeezed it reassuringly.

"Si, so do I. In fact I think I'll go with Mendoza and his men today, to help the search. I know the vicinity very well, you know."

I didn't seem to reassure her much, in fact: she frowned slightly and settled a serious gaze on him.

"Please, be careful," she simply said, not adding anything else.

"I will, I will," he said a bit too lightly to her liking. "And I'm almost sure Zorro will do some hunting down of his own, too."

Diego saw her tense at the outlaw's name. Then she quickly recovered and simply said, doing her best to sound detached:

"I don't think we should depend too much on this man. We don't know anything about him or his true motives, whatever you and Señorita Escalante may think about him... And anyway, he certainly has many other worries of his own!"

 _You bet!_ Diego thought. _Like protecting his father from the clutches of an already married woman!_

Or deciding what to do of Victoria's request...

"Zorro has found Leonor and brought her back," Alejandro retorted, "he has fought these men, he might have spotted some details, and he's always a great help. But you're right my dear, perhaps we've been relying too much on him these past years... What will we do the day he's caught?"

Diego's mouthful of bread went down the wrong way at the thought of his own downfall and consequent demise. And when did his father stop having a blind trust in Zorro?

Admittedly, Diego would be happy to see the Los Angelinos stand up for themselves and against tyrants and bandits alike, but not if his own and ageing father thought he had to lead the way and be an example: he preferred a living father to a dead hero!

Which somehow brought him back to his earlier concerns about Victoria's request.

But just like the day he met her, he found an unexpected ally in Doña Araceli, at least as far as his father's rashness was concerned: she reached to his hand and dared squeeze it while asking him:

"Please Don Diego, help me make your father see reason... He shouldn't put himself at risk unnecessarily and unwisely."

Diego removed his hand to appear to take a sip of his drink and he replied:

"It's a fight I've been fighting for years now, Señora, believe me; and I'm afraid we're both pleading a lost case here... But for what it's worth, Father, I think Doña Araceli is right. For once, better let Zorro work on this matter, he certainly knows what he's doing..."

 _If only!_ he then added inwardly while finally sipping his chocolate. But he almost choked on it when he heard his father's rather heated retort:

"Leonor is _my_ child, Diego, not _his_. He might have a say the day _he_ has one. If ever. Until then..."

Alejandro folded his arms decisively. And thankfully Diego had time to swallow his sip of hot chocolate before his father added a bit accusingly:

"And that goes for _you_ too!"


	58. Ch 58 - All good things must come to an end

After two hours working in the _Guardian_ 's office to print the next edition, Diego and Felipe got out of there to join Don Alejandro for a well-deserved lunch at the tavern.

"Today's special is lamb stew," Victoria announced. "And for starter, what about some spiced sweet pepper with pickled onions?"

"Wonderful, my dear," Alejandro replied. "Sweet pepper and lamb stew it will be for the three of us, then!"

Felipe nodded eagerly.

"Hmm," Diego said, "for my part I'll have bean soup as main course, please Victoria. If you already have some of it, of course. Otherwise, any other vegetable soup you'd happen to have prepared."

"Diego," his father gently scolded him, "you certainly don't want to complicate things for Victoria, my boy. Just have the stew, like the rest of us!"

"That's no problem Don Alejandro," she told him. "In fact, I have made some lentil soup this morning. Will that do, Don Diego?"

"That will be perfect, Victoria. As always," he complimented her with a gentle smile.

And she went back to her kitchen. Alejandro took the pitcher of wine and poured some of it in his and Felipe's glasses, but when he was about to do the same with Diego's, his son made a gesture with his hand to politely decline

"No?" his father asked, a bit surprised.

"No, thank you, Father. I'll ask Victoria for some water."

"Really Diego, you don't want to make things more complicated for Victoria..." Don Alejandro told him, inwardly adding that it wasn't the best way to have the woman you love grow a strong liking for you.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

The three of them were eating the main course when Felipe spotted a lady enter the tavern out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to the door and looked at her: it was Doña Araceli.

Alejandro and Diego followed his gaze, and then the three men politely stood to greet her.

_But didn't she say earlier at breakfast that she'd have lunch at the hacienda with Leonor?_ Diego sighed inwardly: really, couldn't this woman leave his father in peace! Did she have to stalk him like that?

And _him!_ The man wasn't seeing anything through her little game, Diego lamented. And furthermore, he smiled broadly when he saw her! _Beamed_ , even!

"Oh, Araceli, I'm glad you changed you mind!" Alejandro happily told her while gallantly pulling a chair for her.

She sat down, thanking him.

"Oh, in fact I didn't. We had lunch early at the hacienda, but then I found that I didn't want to take a nap, so when Concepcion put Leonor to bed for siesta, I thought I'd just ride here to take a last look around Los Angeles, and to say good-bye to Señorita Escalante."

"Good-bye?" Alejandro wondered, puzzled. "Why good-bye?"

"Oh, I'm leaving tomorrow. Highly time to go back home, after this interlude."

"What?" Alejandro asked, taken aback. "No! You've only been there barely five days... You can't go back just now!"

"I _can_ and I _will_ , Alejandro," she retorted resolutely. "In fact, I find I've been nice and obliging enough to accept to leave San Diego forthwith at your summon and at the drop of a hat, without warning, putting my current business on hold; all this whilst for years and years I had repeatedly advised you to tell your son about Leonor. But now the crisis is over and I have business to tend to back home, and a life of my own to resume, in case you forgot. So I'm taking the next stagecoach to San Diego. I heard it happens to stop off here tomorrow morning?"

"Yes it does," Diego confirmed, keeping a neutral expression on his face and in his voice, only to better hide his inward glee. "Generally around nine or ten o'clock," he obligingly provided.

His father shot him a dirty look.

"But Araceli... you've stayed only such short a time!" Alejandro tried to argue in a slightly... _pleading_ voice? "You can't– I mean, Diego has hardly had time to–"

"Leonor will stay here some more days or weeks if you want," she cut him to parry his sensible objection. "I agree with you, she needs to get better acquainted with her brother, and with your life here; and to get a clearer idea of what her father's everyday life is like, other than when you're visiting us. I think it would therefore be good for her to stay here a little longer – if you agree to that, of course. Concepcion will stay with her, so that you don't have to bother about finding people to look after her. And it's better that she keeps seeing a familiar face while away from home, don't you think?"

But Alejandro wasn't exactly following his former lover's fast-paced train of thought. He was still processing the fact that Araceli would be leaving the day after, which unexpectedly saddened and disappointed him, but also that – thankfully – he would have his beloved daughter for some more time under his roof.

"I've dropped everything when your _padre_ came and told me you were calling for us like you'd whistle for a dog to come, to get you out of the tight spot your own stubborn silence had driven you into," she added. "But now it's time I go back home and get back to business."

_Oh._ Well, seen from her point of view, Alejandro thought, it made some sense of course, the rational part of him tried to reason with him. Yet it wasn't at all how he had seen his... did she use the word 'summon'?

"I didn't 'whistle' for you and Leonor to come, really!" he retorted a bit strongly.

But she obviously didn't share this take on the matter and another stubborn silence suddenly settled between the two former lovers. Diego and Felipe shared a look and then turned their whole attention to their respective plates.

Alejandro turned his to Diego. When would his son finally dare make a move on Victoria? When would he finally dare talk to her, ask for her permission to court her, or at least compliment her on something else than her cooking!

"Diego," he said, doing his best to sound casual, "Victoria's dress is really lovely, don't you think?"

_Uh?_ This was really coming like a bolt out of the blue, Diego thought. And how came his father suddenly paid attention to Victoria's plain outfits, especially when he now had Doña Araceli's impressive and stylish wardrobe right under his eyes?

"Uh... yes," he finally answered, sounding clearly puzzled. "Yes, it is... But she's been having it for years now, and wears it very often, you know..." he added, not getting why his father suddenly noticed it only now.

_Hopeless,_ Alejandro thought. Was really his son such a lost cause?

He turned to Araceli to share with her his frustration at his son's unawareness and lack of talent as far as romancing a woman was concerned, when he suddenly remembered that no one but himself knew of Diego's infatuation.

No one, really? He looked at Felipe. He knew the boy was very observant, by necessity due to his condition, and he and Diego had grown even closer along the years...

Alejandro could see Araceli visibly swallow, suddenly looking... a bit _down?_ She couldn't be envious of Victoria's dress, could she? Alejandro knew she was quite... well, certainly not _vain_ , yet rather _'clothes-conscious'_... but she had no reason to be jealous of Victoria over her practical and very ordinary clothes, right? No, it had certainly been a fleeting impression. And indeed, Araceli raised her head and told him:

"You're right Alejandro, that's a lovely outfit, very becoming on her. And she's a very pretty young lady."

Was it just another impression, or her smile didn't shine in her eyes as it usually did when she aimed it at him?

Alejandro hoped she wasn't feeling unwell, especially if she was to make a long journey on her own. Maybe he could convince her to stay with them a little longer, just to make sure she was fit enough to travel?

And Leonor would be worried if she knew her mother was sick. Perhaps he could play upon Araceli's maternal feelings and make her feel bad about causing some worry to her daughter, Alejandro thought with the slightest hint of a guilty conscience droning somewhere in the back of his mind...


	59. Ch 59 - Fasting and fastening

"Victoria," Don Alejandro told her when she brought to Doña Araceli the drink she had ordered, "your stew is absolutely succulent. Congratulations."

"Oh, Gracias, Don Alejandro," she answered kindly.

"Your soup too," Diego added.

She smiled her thanks at him.

"Victoria my dear," Don Alejandro said again, "Diego was telling us some minutes ago that he noticed how often you're wearing this dress that he finds very lovely and becoming, and we all agreed to how pretty it is didn't we?"

The three other nodded, a bit puzzled though: why did he make it sound like _Diego_ first brought up the subject, and not himself? Araceli couldn't understand the logic: if he wanted to romance her, why not show his appreciation more directly? He had never been that shy at complimenting her, at the time...

But Victoria seemed totally oblivious to their inner questioning.

"Really, you like it, Don Diego?" she asked with a... was it a _hopeful_ expression in her eyes?

Raising his gaze to her face, Diego couldn’t find his voice just yet so he simply nodded by way of confirmation. Then he managed to let out:

"Si, si I do... I mean, it is. _Lovely_ , I mean..."

A very pleased Alejandro noticed the faint blush that came to her cheeks as well as the little sparkle that lit her eyes. She offered them a radiant smile and, suddenly a bit self-conscious at realising how hot her face was growing, she hastily provided a polite "Gracias caballeros, Señora..." and she turned her back to their table, going back to her counter with a spring in her gait.

_Yes,_ Alejandro thought as he noted it, not losing any part of her reaction as he carefully observed her, not taking his eyes off her, _perhaps things aren't such a losing battle for Diego, after all..._

Victoria, as for her, felt she was inwardly beaming: Don Diego had noticed her outfit? Really? Yet it was a very ordinary one... So was there a chance that he at least _liked_ her, physically speaking? If so, it was boding well for the deal she still expected to clinch with him! And it meant he was starting to see her as a woman, and not anymore as a mere good old family friend, or as some little young cousin!

Alejandro turned his attention back to his son. He noticed that Diego was idly pushing to the edge of his plate the bits of diced bacon Victoria had put in her lentil soup. Why on earth was Diego suddenly so picky with food, while he usually was very accommodating? Let's just hope Victoria wouldn't take offense of this!

But when Diego then poured himself another glass of clear plain water, Alejandro began to slowly piece together things in his mind: no wine, no lamb stew, no bacon, and only plain water... it was as though his son was on some Lent diet in the middle of September! It reminded Alejandro of when the padre had him abstain from–

_Oh!_

_Oooh!_

Alejandro gave his son a sidelong look.

"Diego..." he finally told him, "you, my boy, have something on your conscience..." he then said in a slightly scolding voice, heavy with unsaid things.

"What?" Diego asked, surprised. "What makes you say–"

"Tsk tsk, you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, son... and your new meat-free and alcohol-free diet is among the padre's favourite penances, in fact it reminds me a lot of the time when I conf–"

Alejandro stopped short.

"Whatever," he mumbled, making a sweeping gesture with his hand as to brush away what had just slipped out of his mouth. "He's making you do penance for something," he said, pointing a both accusing and teasing finger at his son. "So, what did you do?" he then asked him with a knowing smile, an arched eyebrow and a glint in his eyes.

"Well," Diego eluded, "what is said in confession between the priest and the parishioner is to remain between them, isn't it?"

"And it should remain so," Doña Araceli approved, an invisible chill of dread running down her spine. She remembered too well how her own confession was heard by someone who wasn't supposed to hear it, and of course Diego didn't miss her comment. It was even the very reason why he had been 'sentenced' to this sorry diet!

Or rather the reason why _Zorro_ had been...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

As Victoria was about to close the tavern for siesta time, Don Alejandro took a few coins out of his breast pocket to pay his bill, and Victoria could then catch sight of something blue sticking out of it. She recognised it as the blue ribbon he had previously been wearing around his wrist. She wondered what it was now doing in his breast pocket but didn't have time to point it out to him since at the same moment Doña Araceli too was approaching to pay her own drink. Once again, Don Alejandro had tried to treat her to this, and once again, she refused and was adamant that she could pay her own expenses.

Victoria saw him hastily stuff the tip of the ribbon back inside his pocket as she was coming near, before he suddenly told them:

"Oh, by the way Ladies, I almost forgot: I've had the most surprising visit last night and I've been given a message for you two."

Hey both looked at him, wondering what this could be about.

"From Zorro," he added in a much lower voice.

At this name, Victoria visibly lit up, while Araceli tensed considerably.

"And can't the man deliver his own messages himself?" she grumbled, apprehensive of what he could have revealed to Alejandro.

"Well, it would be hardly seemly for him to go in a lady's bedroom in the dead of night, would it?" Alejandro stated matter-of-factly.

_Not that it would bother him,_ Araceli thought: after all, the man was a bandit and a notorious outlaw. These sort of people weren't the most respectful of decency and of moral standards, she reflected.

_Not that he bothered before,_ Victoria told herself: so why would this time be any different? And in fact, he _had_ come to her bedroom the night before: couldn't he deliver his message directly to her then?

"He entered my bedroom through the window," Alejandro went on, "and he woke me up: he wanted me to tell both of you that a few nights ago, he had caused some slight mishap. He said that while he was hiding from the soldiers in your cellar, Victoria, he accidentally knocked over a bottle of vinegar and broke it, and the content spilled over an already open barrel of wine. Quite an unfortunate coincidence!"

"Indeed," Victoria agreed, inwardly thanking Zorro for his help. Once more, he had rescued her. And from herself, this time! "Quite unfortunate," she added.

"Oh," Araceli said, "vinegar? Hmm... yes, makes sense, now. Mystery solved, then, Señorita. I'm relieved that the quality of my goods isn't involved, finally."

"I've never doubted it, Señora," Victoria graciously told her.

_And for good reason,_ she added inwardly.

"Well, this nightly visit points out at least one thing, Alejandro," Araceli said.

"Oh?" he asked. "And what, my dear?"

"That you really should be more careful. And close your window and the shutters of your bedroom, to begin with!"

"Si Mamá!" Alejandro teasingly retorted, rolling his eyes.

"You can make fun of me as much as you want, but I'm serious Alejandro. This bandit entered your bedroom in the middle of the night while you were asleep, while we _all_ were, he could have easily slit your throat!"

"Zorro would never do such a horrible thing, Señora!" Victoria heatedly retorted. "He's a very decent an honest man, not a murderer! And he'd never harm Don Alejandro!"

"Or anyone for that matter," Diego added from behind her.

He had joined them without her realising it and was teaming with his father and Victoria, who agreed heartily with him.

Araceli shrugged and told Don Alejandro anyway:

"Still, promise me you'll close your shutters from now on."

He rolled his eyes once again. But Diego was painfully reminded of the time he overheard what was happening in his father's bedroom through the window, and he suddenly wished his father had followed this advice at the time.

"And," Araceli added, "that you'll have those of Leonor's bedroom shut. And also that you'll fasten these."

He sobered immediately and replied in earnest:

"That, I swear."


	60. Ch 60 - Out of the mouth of babes

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Alcalde!" Don Alejandro exclaimed, "I tell you that these papers were in order, I'm not trying to evade property tax, for crying out loud! I admit I didn't _sell_ these lands contrary to what I first told you, but I gave them to my daughter. Which, in the end, is completely the same as far as you and property taxes are concerned."

"So you're using your daughter as a figurehead, a straw man? Well, you were right to make a child then, to serve your shenanigans..."

"ALCALDE!" Alejandro flared up, trembling with barely contained rage. "I strictly forbid you to say anything about my daughter! And as far as shenanigans are concerned, I can only concede that you're certainly well-acquainted with the subject..."

De Soto swallowed the insult much more calmly than Diego would have thought. But then he noticed that the alcalde's eyes were fixing something far behind his father, and he turn to follow de Soto's gaze: a hundred feet behind them, across the plaza, Concepcion was approaching holding Leonor's hand. Siesta time was over by far and activity had resumed in the pueblo de Los Angeles. The girl probably asked Concepcion for permission to join her parents in town when she woke up, Diego supposed.

And apparently de Soto didn't want the child to hear what he thought of her father or of the manner she came into existence. At least he had to be given credit for that.

Attracted to the alcalde's doorstep by the sound of Don Alejandro's raised voice, Victoria had joined the two de la Vegas from across the plaza to the tying post near de Soto's office. She noticed that the son had his hand firmly clasped around the father's arm, like he was either trying to hold him back or at least in check. Nearby, a soldier was standing guard, unmoving but not losing a scrap of what was being said.

"Alcalde," Victoria said clear and loud, "when will you stop hassling Don Alejandro, really! He's the most honest man I know!"

"Ignacio," Diego echoed, "my father tells you he doesn't have these papers anyway! I remind you that _you_ were the one taking these from him last week!"

"Well, yes," de Soto confirmed, "and Zorro stole these from me when he broke into my office a few nights ago! You won't make me believe that he didn't give these back to you!"

"And yet he didn't," Alejandro stated. "Alcalde, I swear I didn't get my hands on these papers since you took these from me, even since Zorro took these from you in turn. If he ever really did..." he added by way of insinuation.

"Of course he did!" an incensed de Soto retorted. "I really can't figure why I would lie about this burglary! What would be my interest in all this?"

"Well," Don Alejandro replied, "it would spare you from having to show these papers to people who would then have acknowledged these as authentic and absolutely not counterfeit. It would spare you from showing the material proof that you were completely wrong. Or biased..."

"Don't push the boundaries, Don Alejandro, and don't forget the respect due to my charge..."

"Then respect it yourself, Alcalde!"

At this precise moment, Doña Araceli got out of the church, probably alerted by the raised voices, and she joined their little group. De Soto was about to retort to Don Alejandro's barely veiled accusation, but Concepcion and Leonor had just reached them too, and the little girl was slipping her small hand in her father's warm and large one.

"We'll talk about this later, de la Vega," the alcalde muttered through clenched teeth. "Señora..." he then greeted Araceli in a neutral tone of voice. "Young Señorita..." he also greeted Leonor as gently as he was able to with a nod.

And he simply turned his back to them and retired inside his office.

"Is the chief soldier angry with you, Papá?" Leonor ingenuously asked. "Why?"

"That's a bit complicated, mi amor. But don't worry, it will soon be sorted out," he reassuringly told her, sending a meaningful look in Victoria's direction.

Diego understood what his father meant, although he wasn't supposed to: the night before, besides a plausible version of what happened to Victoria's Madeira, Zorro had also told Don Alejandro where his papers were.

"Victoria, my dear," Alejandro said, hooking his arm with her and gently taking her apart, "can I have a word please? Privately..."

That's all Diego, Araceli, the soldier standing guard, Concepcion and Leonor heard. While the child and the maid couldn't care less, Diego on the other hand and after this argument with the alcalde knew perfectly well what his father wanted to discuss, as well as why he didn't want the soldier to overhear that talk... And thanks to his earlier purposely misleading hints to Doña Araceli in the confessional, he also fairly well knew what _she_ vaguely supposed this one-to-one private conversation was...

And while watching her out of the corner of his eye, he was positively lapping it up!

Anyway, he reasoned, the woman would be leaving very soon: in less than twenty-four hours, he'd be rid of her. He just feared that she and his father would want to bid each other good-bye in a very personal and intimate way the coming night... _Ow_ , he pulled a face at the thought; but thanks to his scheming and to his father's unknowing goodwill in behaving very affectionately towards Victoria, Diego was almost sure that this woman wouldn't try any move on his father. Hopefully the latter wouldn't ruin everything by disabusing her... Or even, by chasing after her and seeking her to _her_ bedroom!

Victoria flashed a radiant and amused conniving smile at his father, nodded and then turned to Doña Araceli:

"If this is to be your last evening here, Señora, then allow me to treat you with a glass of _unadulterated_ Madeira... It's the least I can do to make up for the inconvenience of the previous ones..."

"Oh, but this was none of you fault, Señorita," Araceli assured her. "Be sure that I have no reason to resent you, and I assure you I don't!"

_Pfff, really,_ Victoria thought, _did this woman have to always be so kind and polite and accommodating?_ Doña Araceli was making her feel bad about her pettiness, and was making it impossible for Victoria to dislike her! Did she really have to be Señora Perfect?

A good thing, though, was that Don Diego didn't seem to be saddened by her impending departure. In fact, he even looked quite happy! Probably because she was to leave her daughter to their care for some more time... The man really liked his little sister and enjoyed her company, it seemed... it was a good sign: he liked children, and it could only make him want to have one of his own when Leonor would finally leave them to go back to San Diego and to her mother!

Victoria was smiling widely when she all but dragged them to her tavern's porch and had them sit down.

"Just wait a little bit, I'll be back in the blink of an eye!"

She went inside, grabbed four cups and a bottle of her best Madeira – which was also somehow Doña Araceli's, in a way – and she went back to the porch.

When she joined their table, Leonor had crawled in her father's lap and he was sweetly stroking her hair while telling her:

"As much as I enjoy this, mi cariño, don't you rather want to be in Mamá's lap right now? Tomorrow you won't be able to you know, so you should get your fill of her cuddles while she's still here..."

She looked at him, seeming to suddenly realise that the day after her mother would be far away, and she held out her arms to her mother. Alejandro lifted her from his lap and settled her in her mother's, patting her head and dropping a kiss on top of her hair before sitting back.

All the while, Diego's eyes hadn't left his father and his sister, melting at their interaction. Perhaps one day he too... And of course, this thought made him glance at Victoria. Perhaps sooner than he would have thought, he couldn't help but think. It would be so easy... He'd just have to say yes... He has very seriously thought about saying this yes over the past twenty-four hours, been contemplating and considering it. Weighing the pros and cons.

He nibbled on his lower lip.

Victoria was now serving the wine. Doña Araceli first, then Concepcion, and she was pouring the beverage in Don Alejandro's cup before Don Diego's when Leonor asked where Felipe was.

"He said he was to meet with some friend, and that he'd be back home for dinner," Diego answered her question.

"And by any chance, would this friend happen to be a _female_ friend?" Alejandro asked with an amused smile and a glint in his eyes.

"He didn't elaborate," Diego answered, "he seemed to be in a hurry."

"In a hurry, uh?" Alejandro repeated, smiling even broader. He didn't add anything, but he had clearly just formed an opinion on the subject.

Victoria smiled too while pouring herself some wine, and Diego shrugged. _Youth_... they all had gone through it!

But someone was far less happy than them all: with her less than seven years of age and the only partial understanding she had of half-spoken things, Leonor got enough of what her father implied and she suddenly pouted a bit, burying her head in her mother's soft and welcoming bosom.

"Hmm," Doña Araceli sighed regretfully, "I'm going to miss you mi amor," she said, tenderly kissing the top of her daughter's head.

"Then don't go, Mamá..." the girl pleaded while Victoria was finally filling Diego's cup. "Or we can both go home and just take Papá with us too!"

Araceli smiled but replied:

"No, not this time, mi amor. But Papá will come visit us later, as usual. Don't worry, nothing is changed. But for now, I will leave you here for a few more days, or even two weeks, just like last year when you stayed one whole month with Abuelo and Abuela: remember, you enjoyed it very much, didn't you?"

"Si, but I also missed you..."

"And then you were happy to see me again, even if it meant leaving your grandparents... Well, here it's just the same: we will be very happy to see each other again, but until then you will be very happy to be with Papá. Just imagine, you'll have your papá and your big brother all to yourself, isn't that wonderful!"

The child smiled again. Victoria put a cup on the table before her and poured some freshly pressed orange juice in it.

"And," Alejandro added, "I will be very happy to have you home. As will Diego: he likes to spend time with you and take care of you, just like he did with Felipe when he was a child."

Diego nodded. Leonor turned to her big brother, slightly creasing her brows in thought, it seemed.

"Diego," she finally told him, "you're an adult..." she then stated.

She paused. Victoria looked at her a bit surprised.

"Si," he answered, rather puzzled himself. Did she realise that only now? But what she said next enlightened them all on her current train of thought:

"Then why don't you have children?"

_Oh._

Diego wasn't expecting that.

Neither did Victoria, in fact.

Or Don Alejandro. And obviously, to Leonor, _especially_ to Leonor, a simple answer along the lines of _'because he is not married'_ wouldn't work, wouldn't be enough and wouldn't answer anything. Of course, considering her... uh... origin... or rather, her parents' situation...

She didn't dare look Don Diego in his eyes. She nibbled her lower lip and lowered her head as she felt her face grow a bit too warm for her liking, and she tightened her grip around the handle of the jug she was still holding.

Doña Araceli profusely apologised to Diego and she was explaining to her daughter that asking such a question wasn't the done thing when Victoria realised that for no love or money she would dare look at Don Alejandro either.

But if she had, she would have seen that the older man was glancing at her with a slightly dreamy look in his eyes.

She was prudently retreating inside her tavern to better hide her reddening face when she heard Don Alejandro tell his son in a both teasing and critical tone:

"Diego, I swear I didn't prompt her to say that. At all. But you know the saying: _out of the mouth of babes and sucklings comes forth the truth..._ "


	61. Ch 61 - "Too much virtue can be criminal" (Jean Racine, "Andromaque", Act III, sc. 8)

Victoria was stirring the soup she was preparing for dinner service while thinking about what Don Alejandro had asked her. The papers. Tomorrow. Just before Doña Araceli and the stagecoach leave Los Angeles. Of course: better give these papers to the vineyard's new proprietress's mother and have her take it far away from de Soto's schemes, where it would be safe until Leonor is of age.

Victoria now esteemed Doña Araceli, but without truly admitting to herself why, she would be a little bit glad to see the back of her. She chastised herself for this ungenerous thought, but found it was better that way for Don Alejandro and Don Diego's relationship.

Yes. Better. Things were better that way. A home for each one, and each one in his home. Time had come for Señora Ximénez de Valdès to go back to hers, as she clearly explained to Don Alejandro a few hours earlier.

And now she and the de la Vegas had just taken their leave from her two minutes ago and went back to have dinner at the hacienda.

"Er... Victoria?"

Startled, she almost dropped her wooden spoon in the pot, which would have splashed soup everywhere, and she took the time to lay it down on the countertop before turning around to discover... Don Diego's face poking out of the corner of the curtain separating her kitchen from the customers' room.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you..." he said. "I would have knocked on the door, but..."

He pointed at the soft and therefore silent fabric of the curtain.

"Si, of course," Victoria replied. "I thought you and your family were gone," she added.

"Well, yes. I mean, they are. They're on the way. But I... uh... lingered behind a bit, and, uh... Can I come in?" he finally asked.

"Of course you can, Don Diego!"

_Why so much ceremony?_ she wondered inwardly. It was only a kitchen!

And he did, pulling the curtain back behind him while Victoria took and empty wooden bowl in both hands. And to think she had just been thinking about him, Doña Araceli and Don Alejandro a few seconds earlier... What a funny coincidence.

Well, if he came back, he had probably forgotten something. Was it about those papers his father and her spoke about? But she wasn't sure Don Diego even knew they were currently in her possession.

"Yes," he simply said.

_Hmmm?_ she wondered rather puzzled, mentally calculating how much flour she would have to put in her bowl for the cake she was about to make.

"Yes what?" she absentmindedly asked. No, she would rather make it half flour and half maize starch, she decided.

"Yes," Don Diego simply repeated in a slightly breathy voice, standing still as a statue.

_Oh!_

_Oh...?_

_Oooh!_

Victoria dropped her empty wooden bowl that bounced and went rolling across the kitchen floor to Don Diego's feet. Good thing she hadn't taken the terra cotta one, but she wasn't thinking about it one bit: all her mind and attention was turned to a totally other subject.

"Yes...?" she breathed, seeking for confirmation but hardly daring to speak above a murmur for fear any loud sound would scare him away and have him change his mind.

"Yes," he said for the third time, nodding as to confirm his word.

She stared at him as though she was seeing him for the first time, and although he felt a bit embarrassed at that and at the silence, he let her the time to let his answer really sink in her mind.

When it did, her face lit up with a happy and hopeful expression, and her eyes looked gratefully at him as though he had saved her life, or even the whole pueblo!

After a few awkward moments, Don Diego said that they had to discuss how they would proceed, how they would do that.

"What do you mean, _'how'?_ " she told him. "Well, just like anyone, needless to say!" she stated matter-of-factly.

And if he didn't know what she was referring to, she reflected inwardly with some much needed humour to release the inevitable tension, then there must have been serious gaps in his education!

But – thankfully – he rolled his eyes at her comment.

"Of course, that's not what I meant!" he told her. "I meant... well, I meant arranging the practicalities... agreeing upon... upon the practical details of..."

He made a vague gesture with his hand. He'd rather not name the thing, use a precise word for what they just decided to _do_ , for fear he wouldn't find the fitting word.

"Oh!" Victoria said, understanding what he meant. "I hadn't thought of these details, in fact."

_Where...? When...?_ Her bedroom? His? Under his father's roof? Tonight, with Don Alejandro sleeping at the other end of the corridor...? Or even right now upstairs? Here and there? She hadn't thought that far.

And apparently he didn't either, even when he finally decided to give her a positive answer.

So now that he had said yes, what next? It was a question they apparently just discovered would come up right after the 'yes'.

...Immediately...?

"Er..." Victoria started, "I'm currently in the middle of..." she made a large gesture around her kitchen to show him that she was busy preparing dinner. After what she would have to serve it, and then wash the dishes before closing the tavern... "Right now I have to–"

"Of course Victoria," Diego hastily told her, very much relieved himself, "of course, I didn't mean... well, I didn't mean _right now..._ "

"Look, I think the tavern is the best place not to arise any suspicion," Victoria suggested. "I mean, contrary to you I live alone, and you're already used to come here every day... And I must admit that the thought of your hacienda with your father and Felipe..."

She saw Don Diego make a face.

"You're right," he simply agreed.

"And I don't want for us to rendezvous in the hills for a tryst either: we're entitled to some comfort, we're not animals..."

_Of course!_ Diego thought: they deserved a real bed.

"So," he told her, "here, then? Well, I don't mean the kitchen, I mean..."

"I know, I know, don't worry. My room, then."

He nodded his assent.

"And uh... tomorrow...?" she suggested. "Unless it's too soon for–"

"No no, tomorrow will be good," he told her. "I'll have to come to the pueblo in the morning to see Doña Araceli off, anyway..."

"Siesta time, then? When I close the tavern? You'll enter through the kitchen's back door so as not to be seen..."

"Agreed. And if anyone spots me, I can still say I suddenly felt tired in the _Guardian's_ office and rented a room for a nap. After all, that's what siesta time is for... right?" he asked, slightly unsure.

"Among other things, yes..." Victoria muttered, not daring looking him in the eyes.

Another heavy and awkward silence settled between the two of them.

"So," Victoria forced herself to say, "here, tomorrow, for siesta?"

She looked at him, a bit afraid he would change his mind.

"Tomorrow. Siesta. Here. That's a date," he said, forcing some assertiveness in his voice.

And he turned to leave.

Victoria called him:

"Don Diego...?"

He stopped and turned to face her again.

"Si...?"

"Gracias," she simply told him.

He nodded with a bashful smile, and then he left.

Victoria sent a prayer to the Lord and to His Holy Mother that Don Diego wouldn't change his mind overnight. She didn't think her self-confidence and self-esteem could take it. Nor her womanly pride.

Not to mention her hopes and plans for a happy motherly future!


	62. Ch 62 - Clearing the air

At bedtime, Alejandro took off his jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat and went to his secretaire. He opened a secret drawer and then slipped his hand inside his jacket's breast-pocket; he gently took a rather wide blue satin ribbon out of it and roughly coiled it around two of his fingers before laying it down inside the drawer where it joined a dried flower, a torn cambric handkerchief, a bundle of letters, a baby's dark lock of hair carefully kept in an envelope, and another one of Alejandro's most treasured possessions: a tiny square velvet box.

He smiled sweetly as he recalled the day he received this box through the mailcoach: he was in the pueblo when it arrived so his mail had been directly given to him. Along with the usual letters there had also been a tiny parcel. He recognised where it was coming from so he hastily stuffed it inside his pocket before anyone could notice it and question him about it. Then he had rode home and locked himself in his bedroom at siesta time to open the parcel. Inside it was a letter and a small velvet case. He had read the letter and opened the box to gaze at its content with the fondest smile. Then he had hidden it in his secretaire's secret drawer.

One of his most treasured possessions indeed: inside the box was carefully kept a tiny ivory milk tooth.

All this happened a few months earlier, Alejandro remembered. He lightly brushed the blue ribbon with the tip of his finger, and then he closed the drawer. In less than twelve hours, Araceli would be on her way to San Diego.

But Leonor would stay here, and her presence would illuminate the hacienda with some much needed joy after the sombre times they went through with Risendo's stay, his terrible revelations, and his death. All things that sent the whole household into grieving.

Too bad Araceli was leaving: really, did she absolutely have to go so soon? Despite his efforts, joined with Leonor's, he couldn't convince her to stay a little bit longer. But at least by dinnertime she didn't seem to be unwell anymore: he and Leonor therefore wouldn't have to worry for her health.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Lying on his back in his bed, Alejandro couldn't sleep. He was staring at the ceiling with both arms up and idly folded behind his head, on his pillow, daydreaming. Or was it rather _night_ dreaming, since it was almost midnight? He hadn't even blown the candle out yet, and it was still casting a flickering subdued light around the bedside table.

He looked at the trembling and quivering shadows around him as another memory brought a half-smile on his lips.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_He had arrived in San Diego just before siesta quite raddled, and Dulcinea too. She seemed to resent him a bit for the haste._

_But Doña Araceli was right: he had behaved unseemly, he thought, and then added offense to injury by impolitely running from what he did and childishly avoiding any interaction with her. And she was also right in stating that it would be stupid to downright stop trading with each other just like that._

_He owed her a true, real and thorough apology, after which they might be able to resume a healthy business relationship, as well as – he hoped – a friendly one._

_After a long well-deserved nap and a good bath, he felt like a new man and by the end of the afternoon he decided he wouldn't postpone anymore: the sooner the air was cleared between he and Señora Ximénez, the better!_

_He was feeling surprisingly appeased and serene when he knocked on her door. Her young Indian servant boy – Anibal, right? – answered the door and let him in._

_"Is the mistress home, niño?" Alejandro asked the boy._

_"No Señor, she is out right now," Anibal answered._

_He had to wait for three quarters of an hour before she came back home, and as soon as he heard the door open and saw her get inside the sala he rose to politely greet her._

_"Don Alejandro!" she exclaimed visibly caught unawares but nonetheless pleased. "What a nice surprise!"_

_She offered him her hand to kiss and he graciously did, bowing over it in the most civil manner._

_She accepted his apology for the way he left, as well as for not getting in touch with her afterwards, but not for the kiss itself. She told him there was nothing to apologise for about this; or if there was, then_ she _was the one who ought to apologise for mistaking his responses for what they were not, and for mistakenly projecting on him her own impressions and emotions._

_And to think Alejandro had feared this conversation would be awkward! In fact – and surprisingly – it was as though they were discussing some mundane subject, as though it was something that happened to other people and not to themselves, and also as though they had just parted the day before. He didn't understand the ease with which they talked over the matter. Or talked the matter over. But he was glad for it: it was the undeniable sign that they could very soon close this parenthesis and resume not only a normal business relationship and partnership, but also a friendly one. Which now mattered to him just as much._

_Suddenly, they realised that they had been talking for almost one hour._

_"Oh, I'm so sorry Don Alejandro, I didn't realise it was so late! I completely lost track of time! I feel bad for keeping you from your other appointments or errands."_

_"Oh please don't feel bad Doña Araceli, I'm responsible for turning up here unannounced and without warning. I'm sorry, you certainly had much to do and I didn't even give you time to get changed!"_

_Indeed, she was still wearing the brown and somehow dusty riding outfit she had been clad in when she arrived home._

_...Wait a minute..._ Riding _...?_

_"I see you're getting better acquainted with horses again!" he commented teasingly. "How are they treating you now?"_

_She playfully shot him a fake dirty look, then she pointed a finger at him and said:_

_"Oh, don't get started, Señor..."_

_But she couldn't fake offense any longer and couldn't suppress the smile growing on her lips. They both chuckled at the same time, and after this she told him:_

_"Gracias for coming back, Don Alejandro. I'm relieved. And don't worry, your presence here is no bother: I hadn't planned anything in particular after this afternoon's horse ride. But I've kept you too long, you're certainly awaited elsewhere. After all, you always have many courtesy calls and business appointments to attend to whenever you are in San Diego for such short stays... I'm sorry, I was selfish to take so much of your precious time."_

_"Oh no, please, don't be! In fact, I didn't have anything else scheduled for today's evening either, so that's fine."_

_He tried his best to make it sound casual: he couldn't downright admit he had come from Los Angeles to San Diego hell-for-leather just in order to have a talk with her!_

_"Well then, why not stay a little longer to have a taste of the new bottles of Lacryma Christi I received in last week's shipment? Just give me time to get rid of all this dust and to get changed, and it will be time for aperitivo... So, would you join me in appraising this vintage's quality?"_

_"Oh, you're getting into Italian wines now?" Alejandro asked._

_"Well," she replied, "diversification is another key to good trading business!"_


	63. Ch 63 - After

_After a short but excellent drink underground in the cellar, Don Alejandro even stayed over a very simple and improvised meal Araceli shared with him. She was relieved that they could resume their former business relationship and friendship, and that they were so soon able to revert to their usual playful banter from a few weeks earlier._

_She had been stupid to jeopardise this for a fleeting and girlish infatuation: she usually knew better and was better than that. And anyway, there was no way he could reciprocate the attraction she had felt that night: he was probably seeing her as a child, there was no reason he'd ever be attracted to her, or interested in her the way a man is interested in a woman. A man like him! And he probably already had a respectable lady friend in Los Angeles, was courting a woman his age there... She had really been stupid to think he–_

_"...and then Dulcinea pouted a bit," he was telling her, "so I had to thoroughly groom her myself to make it up to her."_

_"Oh, 'pouting', really?" she said. "Come on, it's a horse, not a human being. I'm afraid you're reading too much in your mare's reactions."_

_"I assure you she resented me for urging her so much on the way!"_

_"Hmm, why not, after all," she granted him. "Anyway, it only confirms my opinion that this horse is temperamental. But why the rush? San Diego would have still been there half a day later you know, or even tomorrow!"_

_"Of course, but finally things were for the best: if I had arrived here only tonight or tomorrow, I would have missed this wonderful Lacryma Christi and this charming supper."_

_"Oh, I barely dare call it a supper, Don Alejandro. A mere snack of tapas, soup and fruits that the cook usually fixes for me when I don't have guests..."_

_"And it was a perfect closure to a nice evening, Doña Araceli."_

_"Gracias."_

_"But all good things must unfortunately come to an end, and I'm afraid I now have to take my leave. I already have imposed on you too long today."_

_"Oh please! Again I assure you that you haven't. I didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day, and you have spared me another dinner alone."_

_These simple words had Alejandro rejoice against his better judgement: so, she didn't have any date with some foppish popinjay or dashing young officer tonight? She wasn't currently seeing anyone? Wasn't courted by anyone?_

_He soon chastised himself for these thoughts: none of his concerns, after all. Doña Araceli could date half of San Diego if it suited her, why would he bother? She was still the pleasant hostess and business partner he liked trading with and spending time with. Which was all that mattered._

_"Then I'm glad I came this afternoon, Doña Araceli: that way I had the pleasure of your company for longer than usual."_

_"You're really too kind, Don Alejandro. I assure you that the pleasure was mutual. Please don't hesitate to stop by whenever you can."_

_"I'll keep that in mind," he said, smiling at her._

_She smiled back. She hoped he would, she liked his visits. They always left her in a merry mood. Except the last one, of course, but it had all been her fault. Or almost._

_"Well, uh..." Alejandro went on, "my respects, Señora."_

_And with these words he bowed and bent over her proffered hand for a very polite and gentlemanly handkiss._

_"Now allow me to see you to the door," she said, trying to garner one more minute of her friend's company. Against her better judgement._

_And when they reached the door, she noticed that Don Alejandro still hadn't let go of her hand. Absentmindedly so, certainly. And indeed, as soon as he realised this he dropped it like it had burnt him. He mumbled something about being sorry and looked anywhere but at her. In turn, she muttered that it was nothing, after what she opened the front door for him, cleared her voice and asked him:_

_"Erm... will you stop by, tomorrow? Here, I mean..."_

_Oh no, she chastised herself: why did she ask him this? Now he would think that she was after him, that she expected– whereas she only wanted to spend a little bit more of such a nice time as they just had! And anyway, he certainly had already much to do for the duration of his stay in San Diego..._

_But she saw a sparkle light up in Don Alejandro's eyes, and it was confirmed when he asked her:_

_"Well, would you be up for a horse ride tomorrow morning? Dulcinea is missing you, you know..."_

_Oh, how much she suddenly wanted to wipe this crooked cocky grin off his face!_

_"Careful, Señor, don't push the boundaries!" Araceli gently warned him. "And I unfortunately have many business appointments tomorrow morning," she added._

_"Oh, too bad. For Dulcinea I mean!" he added. "Another time, then."_

_"But I might have some free time in the beginning of the afternoon," she hastily said, "at siesta time. Unless you planned to take a nap after lunch, that is... But, there is NO way I would mount your mare. I have my own horse, thank you very much."_

_"Really? No regret?" he teased her. "And here I thought you were the kind of person who rather had remorse than regrets..."_

_She failed at suppressing a smile._

_"As you experienced firsthand on your last visit here..." she replied referring to the subject they had discussed earlier in the afternoon. "I just tend to forget that not everyone makes this same choice when faced with it... and that my way is not always necessarily the only way. Or even the only good one, for that matter," she admitted in a sigh. "Thank you for having reminded me of this, Don Alejandro."_

_She had then a little self-depreciating smile that Alejandro found irresistible. He smiled back. The front door was still ajar and from the pitch-dark outside a draught of air, or merely a breeze, funnelled into the house through it. It made the flames of two candles flicker behind Doña Araceli, which in turn made the shadows dance around her as well as on the walls and the ceiling of the vestibule. He looked at the ghostly dark forms all around, and he noticed that once again he was seeing her against the light. Not the twilight this time, but a subdued candlelight. The shadows and the orange-yellowish glow were bringing out the shimmer and the glitter in Doña Araceli's eyes._

_He should really go. Last time had taught him how dangerous it could be to linger here after dark once he had noticed her eyes. Or the flattering glowing colour of her cheeks. Or the flush of her lips._

_Or the curve of her neck._

_"See you tomorrow after lunch, then, Don Alejandro..." she told him with a gracious smile, tearing him from his reflections._

_Again he bowed over her hand and very lightly touched the smooth skin on the back of it with his lips. When he raised his head and straightened his back, he lost himself in the ephemeral patterns that the dancing and flickering shadows were drawing around them._

_And in the process, he forgot to release her hand – again – and he looked Doña Araceli in the eyes; then he stared at her cheeks, further down at her lips, at her jawbone, at her neck, and finally at her eyes again._

_Araceli looked back at him, puzzled. He had just said he was leaving, almost bid her goodbye, and yet he was still there, like rooted to the spot. Staring at her intently._

_And did he just– Did he just_ ogle _the side of her neck? The flickering candlelight was playing with his face, so perhaps she only imagined that? Some case of wishful thinking, she tried to convince herself. Just like last time..._

_The tip of his fingers were still holding her hand, lightly brushing the inside of it, and she suddenly became acutely aware of this contact wreaking havoc in her mind._

_The door was still ajar, she remembered. Why didn't he leave already? Why was he looking at her that way, more the way a man looks at a woman than the way a friend looks at another friend..._

_And why didn't she take a step back, she wondered? Oh no, she felt her own breathing quicken and deepen, felt the warmth of the flush to her cheeks and forehead, and she knew he couldn't miss it. But he didn't step back either. Was there a chance that he finally felt the same sensations as the ones she was currently experiencing, after all? She saw a shimmer in his eyes, a rosy blush creep up his cheeks, and she noticed the same uneasy breathing as hers. She swallowed hard and his eyes glistened with a bright sparkle when he saw that. For two seconds after that, his look was glued to her throat, and she felt his fingers shake a little bit against her hand._

_Would it be possible that Don Alejandro–_

_And she suddenly remembered what he said a few minutes earlier: she was the kind of person who would rather have remorse than regrets._

_Yes but on the other hand... on the other hand she didn't have the right to decide for him like she did last time, right?_

_But all things considered, she decided to put their friendship at risk again: she seized the bull by the horns, took a deep breath, pinched her lips, straightened her head and breathily asked the question that had been insidiously trotting in her mind for the few past minutes. Or the past hours. Or was it even the past three months, after all?_

_"Don Alejandro... Is there... is there in Los Angeles a lady you... a lady you'd have a special interest in...?"_

Oh dear, _Araceli thought,_ this look in his eyes!

_Not uttering a word, he slowly, very slowly shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. After what, he too swallowed hard._

_Araceli's heartbeat did some sort of funny short race in her chest when he silently answered her question, and something situated quite a bit lower inside her tickled and tingled. Oh no, she knew that sensation far too much: lust. She wanted him, and the way he was currently staring at her wasn't doing anything to stifle this sensation._

_She gently closed the very short distance between them, to the point that their chests were almost touching now. Alejandro tried to concentrate on the thought of something else than her breasts almost brushing against his chest. And he chose to do so by gazing at her eyes._

_Her dark, deep, shiny, lush eyes. His mouth watered, his resolution wavered._

_Araceli was still unsure, so she hesitated: last time she had been so sure about his reaction to her, only to have her hopes dampened by his sudden leaving. That was enough to make anyone doubt, and she now not only was unsure of his reaction, but she also felt insecure about her own appeal and attractiveness. What if she was mistaking again what she thought she was reading in his eyes, on his face, and in his whole bearing?_

_What if she made him run away again, and for good this time?_

_She looked at his lips: they had turned bright red. And his eyes...? His pupils had gone wider... so much so that his eyes appeared to have darkened._

_She decided to throw the excess of caution to the winds and she took the plunge._

_She slowly came even closer to him, never losing eye contact. She leaned her head toward his but stopped two inches from it._

_She knew he had the right to refuse her, she wouldn't deny him it like she did last time by begging him. No. She owed it to him to leave him the choice and not influence it._

_He was looking at her intently, and she was as much captivated as he seemed to be._

_'Rather remorse than regrets', she repeated to herself like a leitmotiv. After a very long silence, she finally told him, or rather murmured:_

_"Alejandro... I think I'm going to kiss you..."_

_She saw his eyes widen a little bit more and his lips tremble very slightly._

_She knew she had to warn him of her next move: she owed it to him not to catch him unawares._

_"So..." she added in a very breathy voice, barely above a whisper, "if you don't want me to... if you are to pull back, if you are to leave, then please do it now... Before, and not after."_

_She paused and took a deep breath before going on to explain further, lowering her eyes a bit:_

_"I don't think I could... I don't think my self-esteem or my womanly pride could take it if you'd... if you fled again right after I kissed you..."_

_She really could do without the bathos, the anticlimax. She raised her eyes again to watch his reaction._

_He didn't step back._

_She very very slowly leaned forward, and when her lips were only half an inch away from his she paused, as though to ask his permission._

_He still didn't step back. He looked at her intently, as well as a bit incredulously: she, an appealing and desirable young woman, wanted to kiss him, an older and ordinary man... Who was he to refuse her, to deny her her wish? She really wanted to kiss him again? Hell, truth be told and to finally be honest with himself, he too wanted her to... who was he trying to kid?_

_So he let her._

_Big mistake._

_That night, he ended up in her bed._

_And the night after._

_And the one after._

_And after._

_And after..._


	64. Ch 64 - Farewells

When he went to bed that night, Diego feared he wouldn't sleep much. Anticipation, apprehension, even a very very slight remnant of doubt... And also some dread about the way his father and Doña Araceli could be currently bidding each other goodbye, the manner they could be sealing the impending parting. And indeed, in the first two hours he didn't sleep a wink, going so far as to get up twice and silently walk to the other end of the corridor, to his father's bedroom, and pressing his ear to the door in order to make sure nothing improper was happening in there. When he heard nothing at all he felt relieved, but then after the second time a dreadful doubt seized him, so he tiptoed straight to the guestrooms at the opposite side of the house.

When he listened closely at Doña Araceli's door and heard complete and absolute silence, he decided to get back to his bed where he finally drifted into slumber and slept the sleep of the just.

A blissful sleep filled with dreams in which he was holding in his arms a tiny baby with a thick tuft of hair on the top of his or her head, or others where he was bouncing a toddler on his knees... a toddler who looked remarkably like a younger Leonor, but a Leonor in whom the clearly de la Vega traits where still present but the Ximénez ones had been replaced by Victoria's: her round cheeks, her wavy soft hair, and even the same beauty spots as hers! Images of a little girl slipping her small hand in his or of a little boy running into the safety of his arms made his night wonderful.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Be good and behave with Papá, mi cariño."

"Si Mamá," the little girl promised her mother, sounding a bit down.

Standing in the middle of the plaza, Leonor was clearly not happy with the parting from her mamá, and Araceli's departure was making her feel a little bit low in the dumps. In fact, this parting was making both feel that way, and for the umpteenth time the slightly unquiet mother hugged her daughter against her waist and gently stroked her child's shortened dark stands of hair while repeating her litany of motherly recommendations.

"And be good with Diego too," she then added. "And obey Concepcion!"

"Si Mamá," Leonor repeated faintly, sniffling a bit.

Araceli leaned over her daughter's head and dropped a feather-like kiss on her hair.

"And don't bother Felipe too much, mi amor, don't cling to him: he has his own job to do, and he certainly has his own interests, other than baby-sitting you."

The girl scowled a little bit but then she nodded before murmuring once again in a strangled voice:

"Si Mamá."

Araceli nodded and hugged her daughter even tighter to better hide her own blues from the child.

Don Alejandro was standing not far from them, waiting to bid her his own goodbye and to help her in the stagecoach. But for the moment the driver was still loading the passengers' luggage on the roof rack and securing the bags, suitcases and trunks there.

A few feet away from them, Don Diego and Felipe were staying in the background, politely letting Doña Araceli have a few more minutes of relative intimacy with her daughter – and with Don Alejandro, incidentally. Watching them from afar, Diego was waiting for his turn to bid the woman goodbye, and notwithstanding a small pang of a guilty conscience at seeing his father's slightly down mood, he couldn't help but feel a bit relieved at finally seeing the back of this woman. Really, her presence under the same roof as his father wasn't a good idea. Or in the same town, for that matter. He had slowly warmed to her as and when he knew her a bit more with each passing day, but he was sure he would like her even better when she'll be several dozen leagues away. Especially several dozen leagues away _from Don Alejandro_.

"Mamá, please stay a little bit more..." Leonor whiningly begged in a muffled voice, her small face still buried in her mother's middle.

"I can't stay any longer, mi amor, I've already explained you why yesterday when I tucked you in. I have things to do back home in San Diego. People to meet with, work to do and so on. But be sure that I will miss you very very much."

"I will miss you too Mamá. But then, why not taking Papá with us and going back home, all three of us?"

Araceli smiled and sighed at the same time.

"Papá too has things to do here; he has his life, his home and work to do here in Los Angeles, mi cariño, he can't always come to San Diego!"

Leonor tore herself from her mother and to Diego's utter horror, she started crying for real, with wails and sobs and tears and gasps.

"That's not fair!" she cried. "Why can't you and Papá live in the same town? That would be easier, I could see both of you every day!"

Don Alejandro came closer to his daughter, not really knowing what to do with a wailing child, and he awkwardly tried to pat her shoulder to have her calm down.

"Leonor, please..." he said in a scolding voice, "everyone is looking at you..." he added, feeling terribly awkward.

"Why don't you buy a house in San Diego, Papá? That way you could live there instead of here!"

"That's not the point, Leonor," he replied. "As Mamá said, I have my hacienda here, my land, my cattle, the vaqueros and farmers who work for me..."

"Yes," Araceli seconded, "and Papá also has his friends here..." she added with a look toward the tavern. "He can't leave all this behind him."

From the porch of the tavern, Victoria was watching the scene. Doña Araceli politely nodded at her, and she mirrored her nod, rather surprised though. Her look slowly drifted to Don Diego. She hesitated a little bit, but then she sent him a bright smile and nodded at him, blushing slightly. _In a few hours..._ she told herself, _this afternoon..._

Diego felt his own cheeks and forehead get suddenly warmer, and he could only hope he hadn't turned bright red.

Leonor had finally calmed down and dried her tears. The coachdriver was now done with the luggage and Araceli crouched in front of her daughter to take her in her arms and hug her a last time. Then Alejandro offered her his arm to escort her to the stagecoach, after what he graciously helped her in, taking her hand in his. Once she was seated just beside the window, Diego walked to the coach to politely bid her his farewell.

"Don Diego," she answered, "I'm glad we finally met, and I now know that Alejandro is in fine and good company here in Los Angeles. And also that he is well cared for and well taken care of," she added mezzo voce. "I'm relieved and reassured to know that Leonor also has some family she will be able to count on on her father's side too... I thank you for the way you welcomed her as your sister as well as for the care you're taking of her."

"That's– that's only natural, Señora... We... we are siblings after all, and..." He took a deep breath and stopped stammering. "And you are right, it was highly time we all met. I'm now glad I have a baby sister, and the two of us have several lost years to make up for..."

She smiled and nodded at him, and he smiled back.

"Have a nice journey home, Señora."

He took her proffered hand through the window and courteously bowed over it before taking a step back.

"Gracias, Don Diego. See you again sometime."

Then Concepcion approached with Leonor, while Alejandro came closer to his son.

"Diego," he asked, "will you and Felipe come back to the hacienda with us after the stagecoach left, or will you two only come back for lunch?"

"Oh," Diego answered, "as a matter of fact I have things to do here for the _Guardian_ , so I more or less thought I'd spend the day in the pueblo, having lunch at the tavern and going back to the _Guardian's_ office at siesta time to finish what I have to do," he lied.

"Oh, Diego," Don Alejandro lamented, "you do what you want for yourself, I've stopped fighting this fight against you because I finally admit it's a lost cause, but you shouldn't keep Felipe stuck indoors! Really, a young man his age needs to spend his energy rather than spending all day sitting at a desk!"

"Oh but Father, I didn't intent to... I didn't intent to keep him with me in fact," Diego replied.

 _And how!_ he added inwardly.

"You're right Father," Diego went on, picking up on his father's comment, "Felipe shouldn't stay indoors all day long: take him back home with you. In fact, he's getting along rather well with Leonor, he'll distract her from her mother's departure, what do you think?"

"Hmm..." Don Alejandro answered, "I'm not sure it's such a good idea to stuck Felipe with Leonor... Her mother asked me not to encourage too much her... her _special_ _fancy_ for him, if you see what I mean..."

"Oh?" Diego said, amused. "Leonor...?"

He looked at the little girl near the stage coach, then he turned his head to the unsuspecting Felipe standing a few feet behind him, and then he chuckled.

"Really?" he asked his father, seeking confirmation.

Alejandro nodded.

"Until she sets her sights on someone else..." he added with a half smile. "Remember, a few days ago she wanted to marry _you_!"

Diego smiled. What will it be when she's fifteen years old! Poor Don Alejandro wasn't going to have a very quiet old age...

Meanwhile, a few feet away from them Araceli was saying:

"Goodbye Concepcion. I know Leonor is in very good and capable hands with you. Gracias. And don't let her get the better of you!" Araceli added with a smile. "Don't stand any nonsense from her."

"Goodbye Señora. Don't worry, I won't let her out of my sight."

"Gracias Concepcion. See you soon."

Then Alejandro approached and took Leonor in his arms to lift her to the window, while both mother and child put on a brave little face.

"Goodbye Mamá, and don't worry: I'll take good care of Papá, and of Concepcion too."

Araceli giggled.

"I don't doubt it, mi gatita." She leaned forward through the frame of the window and fondly kissed Leonor's forehead. "I will miss you much mi amor, but we will soon be reunited. In the mean time, be good."

The girl nodded but didn't add anything, probably because of the lump she suddenly had in her throat. Her father put her down and then Araceli leaned to him and told him in hushed tones and in a serious voice:

"Alejandro, I'm entrusting you with what's most important in my existence..."

The message was clear enough to Alejandro: _don't mess up with Leonor, or else there is no way I could ever forgive you._

He nodded gravely.

"Si," he simply said.

He put both hands on his daughter's shoulders and looked her mother in her eyes. The coachdriver patted the horses' hindquarters and then climbed on his seat.

Seeing that, Alejandro sensed that the departure was now imminent, and in turn he said:

"Er... Good bye Araceli. Don't worry, we'll take good care of Leonor, I swear. Er... well, have a nice journey back, then. My thoughts and best wishes are with you, my dear."

And in his most chivalrous manner, he elegantly bowed and kissed her hand through the open window. Then he had a second of hesitation, but finally on an impulse he leaned forward and dropped a very light and seemly kiss on Araceli's cheek. As a sign of friendly affection of course, nothing else.

But when the stagecoach set off and drew away, once it was way past the pueblo's gate and slowly looking smaller and smaller as and when it was getting closer to the horizon, Alejandro suddenly wasn't so sure anymore that he had never loved her.


	65. Ch 65 - Uneasy lover

After he had lunch at Victoria's – carrot soup and turnip purée spiced with nutmeg, along with a jug of plain water – Diego conspicuously left the tavern through the front door, bidding Victoria goodbye with a loud and clear "see you tomorrow, Señorita!"

But he quietly turned around the corner, doing his best to look idle and collected – he had a lot of practice! – and reached the back of the tavern. Roughly five minutes after the beginning of siesta time, he entered Victoria's kitchen through the back door and sat at the table, waiting for her.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Concepcion... I'd like Papá to tuck me in..."

"But Señorita, it's only siesta!" Conception replied while folding the bedcover back over Leonor's shoulders. "You're not going to bed for a whole night!"

"So what? Can't you at least ask him to come and give me a bedtime kiss? Pretty please...!"

And to better convince her, Leonor fluttered her eyelashes a few times, and Concepcion finally grumbled:

"All right, all right... I'll tell him if I see him. Now close your eyes and get some rest."

She kissed her cheek, got out of the child's bedroom and happened to come across Don Alejandro in the sala, so she gave him his daughter's message.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"The last patron is gone," Diego heard Victoria's voice say from behind him.

He started: he hadn't heard her enter the kitchen, hadn't even heard the curtain be pulled aside. Yet he was normally used to keep his senses on permanent alert! But this time his nervousness was due to something totally different than the need to keep himself alive, and Zorro's skills and experience of danger couldn't be of any help to him in the current situation.

"Er... that's good, then. Oh, I meant... er... all right," Diego uneasily stammered.

He bit his lower lip, sheepish. Really, couldn't he find anything remotely coherent to say? His toes bent uncomfortably inside his shoes, out of nervousness, like he was drumming them on his innersoles. He didn't dare look Victoria in her eyes, which didn't really matter anyway since she hadn't dared raise them to his face either.

Then she too sat at the table, across him, and she cleared her voice. Twice.

"Well..." she started, "I guess we... uh..."

She paused a bit and he finally raised his look to meet hers.

"...we can..." she went on, pausing again immediately, not daring finish her sentence. But instead she meaningfully glanced at the stairs.

 _The stairs_ , Diego repeated inwardly. Leading to the first floor. Where the bedrooms were.

Where _her_ bedroom was.

With her bed inside.

"Sh– shall we...?" she ceremoniously said, but without moving a bit, without so much as making as if to stand up.

He nodded, but didn't move either.

And neither spoke for a few long seconds.

"Don Diego..." Victoria suddenly said, breaking the thick silence, "you're aware of course that... that we'll have to... er... er... to try more than once..."

She paused, intently looking at the intertwined fingers or her joined hands on the rough and weathered wood of the table.

"I mean... I mean that of course there is always a small chance that we succeed on this one time," she admitted, "but... but this chance is very slight , and... and we can't wait to be sure until... Well, what I mean is, we will have to try several times, try until we know for sure it has worked..."

He still didn't answer.

"Uh... Don Diego...?" Victoria said. "Is... You... you were aware of that, right? ...Are you still... do you still agree...? You do, don't you?"

Her poor unsure little voice was almost pleading. He raised his head to look her in the eyes, and then he slowly nodded is assent, not trusting his own voice enough to speak.

But neither of them had stood up from the table yet.

All of a sudden, Victoria resolutely slammed her hands down on the table and energetically pushed on her arms to stand up sharply, as though she was mounted on springs like theses surprise toys with a clown springing out of a box; and she then stated in a forcibly resolute tone of voice:

"All right, here we go."

And she walked to the stairs.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Papá, when is Mamá going to arrive home?"

Leonor had slipped under her bed sheets and was trying to delay the moment her father would leave her bedroom and tell her to sleep. She didn't want to, she wanted him to stay here with her, beside her bed.

"Tomorrow evening, normally," Alejandro answered. "Or the morning after, around midday. Depends on the vagaries of the journey..."

"Vagaries? What's that?"

"Minor mishaps that can delay the stagecoach, I mean. Something like a broken wheel for instance, or a storm that would soak the soil of the road, making the coach get stuck in the mud. Things like that."

"...or bandits...?" Leonor asked in a strange little voice.

Alejandro closed his eyes, and for the umpteenth time he cursed those men who kidnapped and scared his little girl probably for many weeks or months to come. And many _nights_ , especially.

He forced a smile on his lips to reassure his daughter.

"No, mi cariño, Mamá is safe, don't worry."

Of course he had no way to be sure of that, and Leonor's question suddenly raised some unquietness in him, but he reasoned that there was no particular reason some bandits would attack and rob this particular coach.

"Tonight," he went on, "she'll dine and sleep in San Juan Capistrano. And at dawn they will set off again, straight to San Diego this time if nothing delays the stagecoach."

"When Mamá is in San Juan Capistrano, she always goes to baby José's grave," Leonor commented aloud. "And next to it is José's papá's grave too. I suppose he too was very sad when little José died, don't you think, Papá?"

"Inevitably so," Don Alejandro replied, surprised at the change of topic. Death wasn't six-years-olds usual subject of idle conversation.

"You know, I'm sad too. Because if he hadn't died, then I would have had another big brother. Another one than Diego I mean, and I would even have had this one ever since the beginning... He would be... er..."

She paused and counted on her fingers, frowning with concentration while doing so.

"...eleven, twelve, thirteen. He'd be thirteen years old, now!" she concluded triumphantly. "That's really too bad," she sighed immediately after.

"Yes it is," Alejandro said, gently kissing his daughter's forehead, "and my heart goes out to you and your Mamá. But as much as we'd like to, we don't have control over life and death, mi cariño."

And of course, he couldn't help but think of the estranged and unknown son of his whose body was resting under the earth of Los Angeles's churchyard. Just few feet away from his birth-mother's.

Alejandro stroked Leonor's hair. The child revelled in the fatherly touch and then she resumed talking, picking up her previous train of thought:

"I am also sad that Mamá had to go back home so soon. I would have liked her to stay with us a little bit more."

"I would have liked it too Leonor, but she had things to do and people to see there, and apparently it couldn't wait any longer. You know, grown-ups don't always do only what they want!"

"Children don't either, Papá..."

He chuckled at his daughter's reply, but then he thought again about what he had just told her. Yes, Araceli had said she had people to meet with back home, people to see there... and then a question which had already tickled his mind the previous evening buzzed again inside him, and more insistently this time. Perhaps... perhaps he should ask the question that had been somehow turning in his mind since Araceli announced her leaving... Perhaps there was another reason than her business for her to want to go home after only one week away from there? Could it be that something else, some other incentive prompted this eager haste to be back in San Diego?

"Leonor, mi gatita..." he started with some sort of lump in his throat but doing his best to sound conversationally casual, "do you know if Mamá... Does Mamá currently have a sweetheart back home in San Diego...?"


	66. Ch 66 - The ruffled shirt

Never before had Diego felt less ready for anything than he currently was, great awkward lump of a man just standing uneasily in the middle of Victoria's bedroom, not knowing what to do with himself.

Well, technically he knew of course what to do, what he had to do, what he was expected to do, but for once the technical part of his mind couldn't take the upper hand over his emotions, and he was feeling really, really ill-at-ease as to how to politely and comfortably get to the 'just' technical part of the program. To the act itself. Not to mention that he had never wanted it to just be technical with Victoria, to only be _the act_ and nothing else than that.

So in other words he was totally at a loss as to how to behave right now, how to initiate the action that would bring them to the bed. Not in their peculiar and particular situation.

How to transform 'making love' into 'mandatory act'? 'Rendez-vous' into 'appointment'? 'Spontaneity' into 'scheduled meeting'? 'Romance' into...

Into what, in fact?

Into 'chore'? 'Duty'?

'Requirement'?

'Compulsory performance'?

How to turn 'pure love' into 'just sex'?

Diego was staring at the nothingness right in front of him, toward a corner of the bedroom, and absolutely _not_ in Victoria's direction.

But after all, he told himself, it was _her_ bedroom, and _her_ idea... so she was the one who should... er... _initiate_ things. Right?

So he just stood there, seemingly fascinated by his own shoes, waiting for her to make the first move, to put things in motion and prompt him on the way she wanted – or at least _envisioned_ – things to happen, to unfold.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria had her back to Don Diego and was facing the wall just above her bed's headboard, wringing her hands while lightly tapping her foot on the wooden moth-eaten floor. For a minute or two she had been waiting for him to take charge and make the first move, but after a moment of fruitless waiting she realised that it apparently wasn't in his intentions. Or at least that he didn't dare do so.

It would therefore be her role. But then again, _her_ idea, _her_ request... _her_ responsibility, then! She took a deep breath in, and she pinched the hem of her blouse between her thumb and forefinger before slowly and hesitantly taking it off by lifting it above her head with trembling hands. Her naked skin now exposed to the cool air became covered with goosebumps and she quickly grabbed her knee-length cotton chemise which she hastily slipped on. After that, she took off her skirt and petticoat which she carefully put on the clothes stand. She did the same with the blouse.

Once this was done, Victoria ventured a look in Don Diego's direction but he was still not looking in her direction; instead, he was staring through the window, but she wasn't sure he was truly seeing anything.

She then turned her gaze to her bed right in front of her. She reached to the cotton bedsheet and grabbed the top of it to pull it down on one side.

Neither of them had spoken one word since they entered the bedroom.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Er... Hum..." Diego heard an uneasy voice say from behind him, "...Don Diego...?"

He forced himself to turn to Victoria and almost choked on his own saliva when he saw that she was already lying in bed, clad only in a light chemise. The white cotton sheet was pulled aside, in some sort on invitation, as though the bed itself was waiting for him to join her on the mattress.

But Victoria wasn't exactly looking him in his eyes, no; rather a little bit more down and to the side, somewhere near his shoulder. Or beyond it.

He felt all his courage and determination leave him, and beyond all understanding he suddenly wanted to be very far from there. Was very tempted to flee through the window. Or to run through the doorway out of the room, out of the tavern, and even of the pueblo. He had his legs like jelly, his earlier resolve wavered and he felt himself liquefy. And yet for years now he had been dreaming of making love with Victoria Escalante!

So... what?

He remembered what happened a few nights ago, when he had been in this same bedroom, on this same bed but hidden under Zorro's guise... making out with this same woman... He had felt so aroused at that moment! And now, now that he was himself, that she wanted to sleep with him as himself and raise a child with him – things that he had dreamed of for so long – now that his dream was almost within reach, he feared that he simply couldn't physically manage!

It would be laughable, if it wasn't such a serious situation.

If the alcalde saw him...! Mighty, impressive and strong Zorro was going weak at the knees at the thought of going to bed with his sweetheart! De Soto would have an uncontrollable fit of the giggles if he knew that, really!

No, Diego told himself on second thought: if the alcalde knew all this, his first reaction would be to arrest him and put him in jail. And then he'd ordered his soldiers to build the gallows.

Well, these thoughts wouldn't help him feel more at ease. And Victoria was still here, still looking at him or rather, _not_ looking at him, still waiting for his goodwill. He glanced at her face: it had blushed, and he was sure his own skin currently mirrored this rosy hue.

He slowly, very slowly walked to the bed and with a shaking hand he lightly and hesitantly touched the mattress.

Victoria took another deep intake of breath and she briefly closed her eyes before pointedly turning them to the clothes stand. The meaning was clear: he was probably far too overdressed for what they were planning to do.

Diego straightened himself, turned his back again and took off his jacket, which he too neatly put on the clothes stand. 'Neatly', but a little bit shakingly too.

Then, he gingerly and stiffly sat on half a buttcheek at the end of the bed and slowly untied his shoelaces. After this he took off his shoes and tidily put them at the foot of the clothes stand. He then stood up again.

Diego felt his face turn very warm when he unclasped his belt, fumbling a bit in doing so. And it became just about burning hot when he clumsily undid the waistband of his trousers and the few buttons lower, deeply breathing in and out, trying and failing at remaining collected.

Oh dear! He would have never thought that before, when he fantasised on this moment, but in fact he currently really wished he were anywhere but here.

But it was too late to back off, he reasoned. And deep down he really, really wanted a child. Especially with Victoria.

Victoria, who had lain down on her back. Victoria, who was waiting for him to give her this child. Victoria, who was staring at him unmovingly.

He sat down again on the mattress, but a bit closer to her this time, right beside Victoria's knees. He barely dared look at her and he just tensely stayed rooted here, with his back ramrod stiff. He couldn't look at her face but he didn't want to insult her by having his back to her and looking away from her, so he settled his gaze on her legs.

This time, Victoria moved slightly, shifting a bit to the side to make room for him... and her hesitant fingers seized the white fabric of her chemise to very slowly but clearly invitingly – _demandingly?_ – slide it one or two inches up her thighs, making more of these and of their smooth skin show, displayed before his eyes only.

It was a silent and clear prompting for him to finally take action and do what he was expected to do.

Diego closed his eyes, frowned, bit his lower lip, deeply breathed in and out, then in again, and pushed on his arms and legs to awkwardly settle himself.

And for once Diego de la Vega behaved as a good and obedient boy, and did as he was expected to do.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

So that was _that_ , Victoria was thinking while the ruffle of Don Diego's linen shirt was uncomfortably tickling and rubbing against her nose in rhythm with his slow thrusting wavy movements inside and over her.

So _this_ was what all the fuss was about, she thought. Far overrated, in her opinion. Not worth the hype.

And yet all the women she had discussed the topic with – or rather the very few ones with whom she had ever spoken between the lines about this subject – as well as the ones she overheard talking about it seemed to find _it_ a very pleasant activity.

Well, she reflected while staring at the ceiling above her headboard, she was rather unimpressed by _it_.

Not very impressed, no, neither favourably nor unfavourably so.

At first it had felt a bit strange, having a foreign body in her, feeling Don Diego _inside_ , and feeling him _move_ , but in fact she didn't have time to dwell too much on this because his frilly shirt had soon started to bother her nose and she therefore had some trouble concentrating on him and on what they were doing.

The last thing they currently needed would be for her to sneeze in his face! Talk about embarrassing! She finally decided to turn her head a little bit to the side so that the ruffle didn't touch it anymore, but now her cheek was brushed by the fabric on its moves. Didn't matter, it was far less unpleasant than against her nose.

They still hadn't told each other anything and for the last ten minutes or so all that could be heard in the room was their breathings and the slight but regular squeaks of Victoria's mattress in rhythm with Diego's movements, as well as the faint thud of her wooden headboard banging a bit on the wall.

 _Once we're done,_ Victoria thought inwardly, _and even before going back downstairs, I'll move the bed an inch or two away from the wall so that it doesn't make any sound next time._ It really wouldn't do if one of her customers barged in on them wondering what this insistent thumping noise coming from her bedroom could be!

Oh, and next time she'll also ask him to take this damn shirt off! And to hell with modesty: the lady's comfort first!

She wondered how Don Diego was faring with their awkward current situation and turned her head a bit to venture a look at his face. She looked up: he had his eyes closed and his featured furrowed, clearly focused on concentrating – at least one of the two was fully keeping his mind on the task at hand, she thought!

All right, he was faring rather well, it seemed. Better than she was, anyway, but it was no real wonder: Don Diego was always focused on what he was doing and with a very good concentration span as far as his own personal projects were concerned – if not with his father's or the society's expectations – but until now she had never seen him apply it to more physical activities than printing the _Guardian's_ last issue.

Well, _physical_ he was being right now, she thought with an amused half smile at the double meaning. And how!

Oh this damned frilly shirt! She had forgotten about it. She scrunched up her nose and tried to focus too. But she really didn't know what to do. Was she even supposed to _do_ anything? She tried to remember what she had done, or what she had _wanted_ to do when she had trapped Zorro on this same bed a few nights before.

She blushed a little bit while thinking that not so long ago she had been rolling with the man she loved on this mattress while she was now... er... having... er... _intimate relationships_ with another man. She suddenly couldn't help but feel that she was currently cheating on Zorro with Don Diego. But she soon dispelled this thought: no, that wasn't how things were. Her heart was Zorro's, and her body was... well... _hers_ , in fact. And no one else's. And she had decided to currently share it with Don Diego. Zorro for her heart, and Don Diego for her body. And for a child. Things were very clear that way.

Oh no! She had digressed again! _Concentrate, Victoria, focus on the man right here with you, you owe it to him!_ What had she wanted to do, last time? Perhaps she should at least do something with her hands?

She hesitantly raised her right arm from the mattress and shakily reached to his back. She finally lightly touched it with her fingers, or rather she touched the fabric of the shirt covering his back. He didn't show any sign that he was finding it untoward, or that it displeased him, so she fully put her hand on his back and awkwardly did the same with the left one, still a bit tense in her arms though.

After a while, Victoria felt Don Diego thrust a little bit faster and he suddenly paused in what he was doing and stilled completely, still inside her.

"Victoria," he finally murmured, speaking for the first time since he left the kitchen, "it is still time to... to back out... if you..."

He paused, searching his words.

"I'm going to– But it's still time... It's not too late to– ...But after... after... if..."

Another pause to collect himself.

"After, there will be no going back," he finally let out in a breathy murmur.

For the first time since their talk in the kitchen she dared look him in the eyes, catching his look, and she simply nodded sharply and resolutely.

He understood the unspoken command and resumed what he had been doing, but in a faster pace. He thrust, thrust, thrust, then stilled. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, furrowed his brows intently, clenched his jaw, and then he briefly collapsed on her with a deep exhalation – _ow_ , he was heavy! – before almost immediately pushing on his arms and knees to roll on his back beside her, panting a bit loudly.

 _So_ , she thought again. That was it. That was done. Was there anything special she should do now for it to work? She didn't know. She supposed not.

She analysed what just happened. She still didn't understand the fuss around it. It was neither particularly pleasant nor unpleasant. Neither very good nor bad. Or was this because she had done it with a purely technical purpose in mind? With ulterior motive? Should she rather have tried to simply seek the pleasure in it, rather than the outcome? Enjoyed the ride rather than expected the completion and anxiously waited for it? Expectation and anticipation might have been the mood killers, here.

That, or it really wasn't worth the fuss. Nothing to write home about.

On the other hand, nothing to get all worked up or indignant about either. No big deal. She really didn't feel a particularly bad sinner for what she'd just done. What _they_ had just done. Truth be told, she didn't feel a sinner at all for that, in fact. For many other little things in her life, yes... but for this? Not at all. They both fully consented to it, and it didn't cause any harm or hurt to anyone, so what?

Don Diego's breathing had still not reverted back to completely normal, should she be worried for him?

She modestly pulled the bottom of her chemise back down to her knees and turned on her side toward Diego. He hadn't his eyes shut anymore, he was staring fixedly at the ceiling, with his mouth half open. Was he already regretting?

"Don Diego... are you alright?"

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Yes he was alright, he silently answered with a nod of his head while slowly regaining his breath.

Victoria didn't add anything else and she abruptly got up. With her back to him she straightened her attire and grabbed her blouse and skirt on the clothes stand. Then she went to the other side of the bed and faced the wall while getting dressed. He too did the same on his side of the bed, tucking the tails of his shirt back inside his trousers and fastening it as well as his belt. Then he put his jacket back on. And he sat again on the mattress to lace up his shoes.

So. It was done. But for quite some time during the deed he had feared that he wouldn't manage it fully to the end, that he might not be able to bring the task to completion... unwillingly letting her down half-way.

He had tried to remember this recent night when Victoria had dragged him to her bed, when she had started to undo his belt and his body had reacted exactly the way it shouldn't have back then, the way it should today... while today things had been far more difficult to keep that way!

For once, his anxiety was working against him instead of giving him the usual rush of adrenaline that danger normally filled him with. But he didn't have the right to let her down, and if ever he did, then this time it would really be the end for poor, wussy, clumsy Diego! Not even able to–

No, he didn't have the right to let her down, and at least he had managed all the way to the end! Nothing spectacular, no... no real pleasure for him anyway, and at some point during the act he even feared he wouldn't manage to... to _get to the end_ ; but at least he performed and gave her what she asked him to. That was a great relief.

 _Oh_ , she had enquired whether he was fine, but he hadn't even asked her the question back yet!

"Victoria... Are you alright?"

"I am," she simply answered, not turning to face him. "Thank you, Don Diego."

She didn't clarify what she was thanking him for. For asking? Or for the service?

 _Service_ indeed...

"Er... well..." she said, still addressing the wall in front of her, "I think it's time I..." She vaguely gestured toward the door. "Siesta will be over soon, and people will come back to the tavern... I should..."

"Yes," Diego answered. "Of course. And _I_ should..."

He too gestured toward the door. Yes, he really should go before anyone saw him get out of the landlady's very personal bedroom. Or even anywhere in the tavern at a time when it was closed and when he was thought to be in the _Guardian's_ office.

She nodded. They both made their way to the door and reached it at the same time, almost bumping into each other. Both of them took a big step back, not daring to touch the other, not even to merely brush the other's clothes.

"Ladies first," Diego mumbled, taking another step back.

"Thank you Don Diego, but... the guest first," Victoria politely replied, taking a step back as well.

"Gracias," he murmured, looking at his own shoes.

But when he was about to leave the room, she grabbed him by the elbow to keep him back a little bit.

"Er..." she started hesitantly, "er... tomorrow, same time?"

Diego silently nodded his consent. She released his arm and he left, taking great care of not being seen.


	67. Ch 67 - Post coitum animal triste

On the way home from the pueblo at the end of the morning, Leonor and Concepcion were sitting in a carriage driven by Felipe while Don Alejandro was riding his white mare Dulcinea. Faraway, somewhere near the hills, they spotted a lone rider mounting a dun horse with black front legs, white hind legs, a brown tail and a white mane.

Leonor gasped slightly and turned to Concepcion, burying he face in the woman's bosom.

"What's happening, Señorita?" the maid turned governess asked the child.

Leonor raised her head and whispered something in her ear.

"What!" Concepcion shouted, surprised. "Are you sure, niña?" she then asked in a lower voice.

The girl nodded and huddled up to the woman. Conception half stood in the carriage and tapped Felipe's shoulder. The young man turned his head back to her, slowing the horse.

"Stop," the maid said, "stop the carriage!"

Intrigued at the urgency in the woman's voice, Don Alejandro too turned to them.

"Stop the carriage _now_ ," Concepcion said again.

"What's wrong?" Alejandro asked.

With both hands, and now that he had stopped the horse, Felipe clearly asked her the same question.

But she turned to Leonor and simply told her with an encouraging nod:

"Tell Don Alejandro, Leonorita. Repeat what you just told me."

The child looked at her father's inquiring face and said:

"This horse over there..." she gestured toward the hills, "it was... it was one of the mean men's horses. I'm pretty sure of it. It looked very strange with legs like that, like he had put on the wrong stockings... and with the very mismatched tail and mane too. It was like it was made out of the front half of a horse and the back of another horse..."

Don Alejandro's face changed as and when his daughter was talking, and he made as if to urge Dulcinea into a gallop but before he had time to spur his mar Felipe had predicted this reaction and had jumped down the carriage, swiftly taking hold of Dulcinea's reins to prevent his patrón from running headfirst into a potentially dangerous situation on an impulse, on a fit of anger. And unprepared.

"Let go of these reins, Felipe, I don't want to hurt you!"

But Felipe didn't let go. Quite the contrary, he even grabbed Don Alejandro's arm, trying to make it the touch of a calming hand but also firmly opposing resistance.

 _No,_ Felipe told him, shaking his head resolutely.

But reasoning with an angry Alejandro de la Vega was never easy, and even less so when you couldn't speak your arguments aloud.

 _They know who you are,_ Felipe managed to make him understand, _the moment they see you they'll be on the alert. We must catch them off guard._

Then Felipe drew a Z in the air.

"We can't always count on Zorro or rely on him to fight our battles, Felipe!" Don Alejandro grumbled.

But Leonor too started to fear for her papá's life and she jumped out of the carriage to cling to her father's leg with supplications of "don't go, Papá, please don't go!"

She started to cry and Don Alejandro had to dismount to very awkwardly try and make her calm down – making a very poor job of it, incidentally. At least in Felipe's and Concepcion's opinion. He really was never at ease as far as expressing his feelings was concerned, they reflected. Afraid that it wasn't 'tough' enough for a mighty caballero and a former soldier, probably... Felipe smiled at seeing his unease. And at least the man now had something else to do than blindly run after bandits, weapons in hands. Even though he would have certainly felt more in his element doing this than calming a sobbing child, be it his own daughter.

Concepcion too had gotten out of the carriage and now everyone was standing in the middle of the road.

Don Alejandro was clearly champing at the bit, glancing every now and then toward the hills while he was absent-mindedly patting Leonor's shoulder, trying to get her to calm down. The little girl was still clinging to his leg, hanging onto it for dear life. "Stay, Papá, stay!" she beggingly moaned.

But Alejandro finally managed to unclasp Leonor's arms from around his leg and he was about to get in the saddle again when Felipe noticed his move and guessed what he was going to do. The young man beat him at it and mounted on Dulcinea first.

He reasoned again with Don Alejandro that if these men were not from Los Angeles, then there was no way they could know who _he_ was, so the chances that he could get closer to them without arousing any suspicion were higher than Alejandro's.

The older man conceded that it was true, but still, he didn't want a boy to fight his fights, and he wanted to chastise these men himself. But Felipe knew that his patrón was more than a bit too hot-blooded for his own good; and Diego wouldn't be happy with him if he let his father get himself in trouble and head for serious danger.

While Don Alejandro was still trying to get him to get down from Dulcinea, Felipe bent forward, swiftly and deftly grabbed his patrón's sword, unsheathing it out of its scabbard; in the same move he spurred the mare into a gallop, and while he was heading to the hills he sheathed the blade in the saddlebag.

"Felipe! No! Don't do anything foolish!" Don Alejandro called instinctively, not immediately aware of the uselessness of shouting out to a deaf-mute who had his back to him.

All this had taken but a few seconds, but now Felipe was already far away. This boy really had lightning-fast reflexes, Alejandro marvelled. Very much Zorro-like, in fact. And he was courageous, too. Even a bit too recklessly so, the older man regretted, worried for Felipe.

He shook his head at himself: why couldn't he prevent him from acting like this? Why did he let the boy have the better of him and run headfirst toward danger? Were his own reflexes diminished so much that even a child could outpace him now? Did he aged that much? Or did Felipe grow up so much?

He cast another unquiet look at the retreating back of the boy who was far away now. Dear Felipe... He had grown up into a fine young man... brave, deft, quick, courageous, full of pep... and a good horseman too! Everything that Diego wasn't, unfortunately... But now Alejandro was worrying for the boy's safety, while at least the only kind of worry Diego was causing him was whether or not he would ever marry... and whether he would provide him with grandchildren!

But truth be told Alejandro had to admit that, now that he had known the fright of seeing his son's close brush with death at the tip of his twin's blade and experienced the dread of having his little girl kidnapped, the father in him would hate for his son to run into any kind of danger, for Diego's life to be threatened by a possible impending death.

So yes, now that his stomach was making knots with worry for Felipe's safety, Alejandro was inwardly feeling rather relieved that his son was such a scholar and not a man of action, finally glad that Diego was always avoiding any kind of dangerous situations.

Really, Alejandro admired Zorro, but his parents – if he still had them – were certainly worried-sick for their child. And no fatherly pride was probably worth this permanent dread.

No, really, it wouldn't be worth it he thought, wordlessly sending a prayer to the Lord for Felipe's safety. _Please, don't let anything happen to him!_ Not to mention that he wouldn't forgive himself if–

He wanted to run after the boy, or rather _ride_ after him, but unfortunately there was only one horse left, the one tied to the carriage, and anyway he didn't have the right to leave two women – well, no, one woman and one child, _his_ child – alone in the middle of nowhere with no horse while bandits were perhaps wandering in the surroundings. He felt torn but deep down he knew that his duty was first and foremost to bring them to safety.

He took Felipe's place in the carriage and urged the horse to his hacienda. Once home he instructed Concepcion to keep Leonor inside until he came back, to close and lock the doors, to tell the servants what was happening, and not to open to anyone but himself or Diego.

Then he quickly grabbed a sabre, saddled a horse and galloped toward the hills.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Hidden away in the cave, Diego was brooding. He was rather unhappy with himself. He had been so nervous, embarrassed and awkward earlier that he had almost botched things with Victoria. Truth be told, the threat of 'going limp' had been looming over him the whole time, and it didn't help him relax, enjoy and concentrate on making it good for Victoria. Quite the contrary! And of course, this added threat of loosening halfway made things even worse as far as stress and performance were concerned...

How could he dare look her in her eyes ever again, now! All right, it hadn't been a total disaster, no... but it hadn't been glorious either, far from it.

He'd just been a fairly poor lover, and now Victoria was certainly thinking that he simply was inherently rather bad at _it_. Very much in tune with his public persona: kind and well-meaning, granted, but mainly dull, boring and plain.

Well, 'unskilled with the ladies' could be added to the list, now. And what's more, his behaviour probably made her think that he didn't desire her, that he had just been fulfilling a duty or doing her a service there!

He sighed for the umpteenth time. And she expected a repeated performance on the day after! He really, really needed to get a grip on himself before that!

He sighed again, then a sudden thought crossed his mind: when he had come home he hadn't wanted to come across anyone, so after he brought his mare to the stable he walked away and entered through the outside camouflaged entry to the cave. He had been there for some time now, and Tornado's buck of water was empty: hadn't Felipe come down to the cave since the early morning at all?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was bringing some wine to the vaqueros seated at a table on the porch when she overheard them talk of the younger one's current love story.

"...but her older sister is always clinging to us, playing duenna," he sighed. "I can't even take Eulalia's hand anymore!" he lamented.

Victoria hid a soft smile: Fidel Alvarado and Eulalia Fernández were well-known young sweethearts of the vicinity, whose budding puppy love had come a bit too public when Fidel's much younger sister had innocently claimed loud and clear at the mission's school that her brother had asked her to stand guard and lookout while he and Eulalia were smooching in his patrón's barn. According to the grapevine this 'smooching' had implied some level of 'making out' too; usually Victoria was rather wary about what the grapevine said as far as gossips on that matter were concerned, but in Eulalia and Fidel's case... Well, she had already witnessed some wandering hands on her part, a bit too high on Fidel's legs or too low on his back for propriety's liking... and she knew that Fidel had some trouble keeping his mouth away from Eulalia's, so...

Yes, it was no secret that those two were very much into each other and had trouble keeping their hands to themselves. Hence the older sister playing chaperone for them, to the two sweethearts utter annoyance! Victoria smiled. They were sweet. At least those two wouldn't feel any awkwardness at rolling in the hay together, she thought. Nothing like herself and Don Diego.

She reflected back at her 'siesta' with him. She hadn't been good at it. Hadn't done anything to make it good for him. She had been completely... dull. Lame. Just lying there like she had been sleeping. Poor Don Diego! She wasn't really attractive, she supposed, and yet he did his best to do what she asked him to do. He had forced himself to sleep with her without any desire for her, and she didn't help him find it remotely pleasant! It was a miracle he accepted to do it again the day after! A miracle... or simply Don Diego's kindness and sense of duty, of the given word.

Dear, dear Diego! Victoria made a promise to herself: next time she'd try to at least be a bit more... affectionate with him – if he agreed for her to, of course! _Affectionate_ , but in a friendly yet intimate way, if such thing existed.

She didn't know how to concretely do so, though, how to find the right balance between the two, the right combination between friendship and physical intimacy. She'd think about it when the time comes, once faced with the situation... Until then...

She smiled, thinking that perhaps a combination of Escalante and de la Vega was already nesting in her womb.

But something else was resounding inside her mind: 'affectionate, friendly yet intimate', 'friendly yet intimate...', 'friendship... intimacy...'

How? How to combine the two...?

Well, with them, the expression 'intimate friend' was taking a whole new meaning! Victoria briefly wondered whether it wouldn't be a fairly thin line to walk, but she quickly thought about something else when two of her clients started to quarrel a bit too loudly about some money one had borrowed from the other a few days earlier. Now she had to step in between those two, for the sake of her tavern's quietness.


	68. Ch 68 - Like father like daughter

Alejandro had been searching for hours, finally following some tracks he found and tracing it up to a clearing where he found Dulcinea simply waiting behind a rock. She wasn't even tied to anything, but despite her fiery temper the mare was so used to Felipe and to his care that she obeyed his every gesture or whistle. Because yes, Felipe could whistle, Alejandro had discovered this a few years ago.

Dulcinea was there, but Felipe was nowhere to be seen. Alejandro looked around: a few trees on the left, rocks on the right, a canyon right ahead... but no one. Neither Felipe nor bandits. No sign of the dun horse either.

He walked to the edge of the canyon in front of him and glanced down: nothing.

He took a look through the trees on his left: nothing either.

He stepped closer to the rocks on his right: through the boulders he noticed a crack. Walking around to get a better look at it, he saw that what he initially thought was a crack was in fact the entry to a natural tunnel in the rock, a cave of some sort.

He walked four steps into it, and then he suddenly felt something be firmly pressed on his mouth while something else touched him all along his back. He very soon understood that someone had crept up on him from behind and he immediately struggled against his assailant, grabbing his arm and trying his best to elbow him in the stomach.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Diego stepped through the fireplace and started searching for Felipe. In the corridor leading to the bedrooms he came across Concepcion.

"Oh, Don Diego! I didn't know you had come home, I didn't hear you knock at the front door!"

 _Knock?_ he wondered. Why on earth would he knock to enter his own home?

"Knock?" he repeated aloud.

"Who unlocked the door for you?" the woman went on, to Diego's further bewilderment.

" _Unlocked_...?"

"Well, whatever," she pragmatically added, making a sweeping gesture with her hand. "Any news of your father? Your sister is getting worried by now, and–"

"My father?"

The more this woman was telling him, the less Diego was understanding anything to what she was saying.

"Yes, Don Diego, your father!" she replied, a bit annoyed at hearing him parrot as well as at having to repeat herself.

Concepcion was starting to suspect that Don Alejandro's son was a bit... er... simple-minded. Kind and well-behaved, yes, but... a bit _weak_ in his brain. Poor boy. And poor Don Alejandro too: no wonder he hadn't been that eager to introduce him to Araceli! For years Concepcion had thought he was a bit ashamed of his illegitimate family, of Doña Araceli, of her way of life... and also of his own past behaviour of course, having had an affair and a bastard child and all, but now the maid suddenly thought that perhaps he had rather been ashamed of his very legitimate offspring instead!

Poor young man... Such a handsome and good-looking man on the outside, but... apparently not entirely finished inside, so to speak. A bit... slow on the uptake. Retarded and slow-witted, in short. What a waste of a perfectly dishy wrapping! Too bad, really. And poor Don Alejandro... Concepcion now understood the rather disappointed remarks she very recently heard him tell Doña Araceli about his son!

"Where's my father by the way?" Diego asked, interrupting her thoughts. "And what is Leonor worried about?"

Concepcion looked at him strangely.

"Do you mean..." she said, "didn't whoever opened the door for you tell you what happened?"

"What do you mean? What happened? Where's my father? And by the way," he added, looking around "where's Felipe?" he asked, raising his voice in case the boy was anywhere close to where they were standing.

"So you really don't know...?" Conception asked, changing her opinion about him.

And she told him.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

For God's sake! Diego bit back a curse word: now Felipe was being as rash as his father! And of course the latter couldn't help but rush straight into danger! Really, Diego was fearing that Don Alejandro finally had a bad influence on the young man: where else could Felipe have picked up this hero complex which led him to think he was the one who had to take action when faced with any wrongdoing, at the risk of putting himself into potentially dangerous situations?

This behaviour was really Alejandro-de-la-Vega-like, Diego inwardly lamented. Whom else could he have picked up this from? Why didn't Felipe just gallop to the pueblo to tell _him_ what Leonor had said? Why didn't he let Zorro handle this? Did the boy think he was now old enough, man enough to take things in his own hands?

And of course, his father felt he had to join him right in the lion's den!

With a few long strides Diego quickly was in the sala, with the clear intention to outdistance Concepcion and leave her behind him fully intending to step again through the fire place: this was a matter for Zorro, not for a young boy and an old man!

But when he reached the library, he found there Leonor in a precarious situation: clearly she had dragged an armchair right in front of the hearth and was perched on its armrest, standing on tiptoe, her left hand on the lintel for balance, and her right arm stretched high up.

High up to the wooden coat of arms crowning the fireplace. Or more precisely, to the hilt of one of the two old and slightly rusty crossed swords that were forming an X on the blazon.

Just when Diego realised what he was seeing, the armchair wobbled and keeled over. He sprung into action and jumped to catch Leonor just as she was falling. Her weigh had made the sword detach from what had been keeping it fastened to the wooden blazon, and when Diego gently put her down she was holding the weapon's guard with both hands. Very awkwardly so, because the blade was almost as long as she was tall.

Seeing that, Diego immediately took it from her.

"Diego!" she shouted in a surprised voice, glad to see that her big brother was there and that he had 'saved' her. "Gracias, but please give it back to me!" she pleaded.

"Certainly not, it's not a toy! This is a real weapon, Leonor, and that's very dangerous!"

Felipe had been right, Diego thought: children were really too nosy, prying and snooping around, and always fiddling with everything.

"I know, but I need it to go after the bandit!"

"WHAT?!" Diego shouted.

"WHAT?!" Concepcion's voice echoed from behind him.

"Papá has not come back yet," she replied, "I'm sure he is in danger!" she said with tears in her big dark eyes. "I'll go and help him! Give me this sword back, Diego..." she whined, stamping her feet a bit.

"You're certainly not going anywhere, young señorita!" Concepcion stated loudly.

"Indeed," Diego added. "Stay here with Concepcion, mi cariño."

"NO!" she firmly shouted, crying like the child she was, but resolute like a de la Vega. Or like her mother, Diego reflected. With her parental heritage on both sides, Leonor was going to be a handful to handle, he sighed inwardly. And he really didn't have time for this right now: he _had_ to go to the cave and change into Zorro as soon as possible!

He discarded the sword by throwing it in a corner of the room; then he lifted his sister in his arms although she was fussing and flailing, pummelling him with her tiny fists while gasping with incontrollable sobs.

"Let me down! Let me down! I must help Papá! And Felipe too! This is my fault! I shouldn't have said anything!"

"Leonor, STOP!" Diego shouted. The ruckus had alerted some of the other servants who came to the library. "Calm down! I know you're worried and I am too, but I am sure Papá is doing all right," he said to reassure her. "As well as Felipe. And none of this is your fault."

But the little girl wasn't listening to him anymore, still struggling and sobbing.

Diego handed her to Concepcion who had some trouble holding her in her arms due to the child's fretful gesticulation. A manservant came to her help.

"Please Concepcion," Diego said, "could you take her to her bedroom? Try to get her to sleep a bit if you can..."

He tried to kiss her forehead but she was still too agitated and he had to give up the thought for fear he'd end up with either a split lip or a bruise on his face.

Right now Diego was hating himself: his father and Felipe had been bravely but rashly running a risk and putting themselves in danger, when at the exact same time he and Victoria had been–

He sighed. And as soon as everyone else had left the room and gotten back to his or her earlier occupation, he opened the secret panel and stepped though the fireplace to the hidden passageway.


	69. Ch 69 - The old lion and the southpaw

Alejandro gripped his assailant's right wrist but despite the blow his elbow had just delivered in the other's ribs, the man didn't let go of his prey and Alejandro was still unable to call for help, with this damn hand pressed against his mouth.

After a short struggle he managed to loosen the man's clutch a bit and turned around to face his opponent. In the relative darkness of the cave he didn't have time to make out the man's face before his back was pressed flat against the cool stony wall, and he couldn't let out a cry before the assailant's hand gagged him firmly again.

The man was holding him still, but he didn't hit him or anything either. Alejandro's eyes got accustomed to the dimness around him and they grew wide when he finally recognised Felipe's features facing him. He stopped struggling immediately and the young man released him, only keeping his right hand on his patrón's mouth. Raising his left index finger to his own lips he made the very well known gesture used to tell someone not to speak.

Immediately grasping the meaning of it, Alejandro slowly nodded and Felipe removed his hand. Then he gestured at him to follow him and he walked deeper into the cave-like tunnel.

After roughly a hundred feet and a few curves, he saw daylight ahead of him: the cave was coming out on a sort of cirque surrounded by rocks that made like a very large stony crown just put on the hills. Here and there in this crown, a few dents let way for narrow open-air passages, never wider than three feet though. This 'clearing' was about sixty to one hundred yards large, and on one side of it Alejandro clearly saw a horse tied to a shrub. A dun horse with white hind legs and black front legs, with a white mane and a brown tail.

He grasped Felipe's hand to get his attention and pointed at the horse, and the boy nodded: of course, he already knew it was there, he had been tracking its rider down to this hiding place for some time now.

And indeed, Alejandro saw a man on the other side of the cirque; he was crouching near a pond, bare-chested, apparently busy washing his shirt.

Alejandro also noted that the man was carrying a pistol at his belt, as well as a sword. Or rather a sabre. He pointed at it for Felipe to take notice, but of course the young man had already seen that. He signed at his patrón that he didn't know if the gun was loaded or not, but in doubt...

Alejandro lowered his eyes to Felipe's waist and he noticed that the boy had slipped the sword he had borrowed from him through his sash; he ought to be careful, though, because its blade was naked.

The older man reached to the hilt but Felipe tried to stop him from taking his sword back. He gestured at him to wait. To wait and see.

But of course, generally speaking Alejandro wasn't much into waiting and seeing; and faced with a man who had targeted one of his beloved ones, he clearly didn't intent to wait, think, and only then act with a cool head.

Felipe pointed at the man, then made the sign 'one' with his finger; after that he made a wide gesture referring to the surroundings and he insistently held up three fingers before Alejandro's eyes. _He is only_ one _man, but we're looking for_ three _bandits left_ , it meant.

Felipe's idea was clear: instead of attacking the man now, taking him prisoner and interrupting the thread to the other two kidnappers left, better hide and watch him, hoping that he'd finally lead them to his accomplices.

But Alejandro shrugged: as soon as he has the man at the tip of his sword, he'll 'politely' but 'persuasively' ask him the question. He swiftly grabbed his sword, getting the better of the young man's reflexes. For once, Felipe hadn't been fast enough and Alejandro rushed to the crouching man.

But of course, the racket he made alerted his enemy and when the incensed father reached his daughter's abductor and warned him with a thundering but gentlemanly "en garde!", the latter was already in fencing position, his sabre in his left hand. The two engaged and both Felipe and Alejandro soon noticed that the other man seemed to be very young, and not an expert at fencing. It made Don Alejandro a bit overconfident, and he soon forgot than the man was left-handed, which meant that it gave the younger man an advantage over his enemy: he was used to face right-handed opponents, whereas Don Alejandro, despite his years-long experience of fencing, had seldom crossed swords with left-handed adversaries.

Not to mention that Alejandro, although he didn't like to admit it and preferred remaining blissfully unaware of that fact, wasn't in his thirties anymore, and had even left these glorious years behind him a quarter of a century ago!

But his body soon reminded him that fact : he strung his attacks together less quickly than he expected to, had some trouble bending and stretching, and when he lunged a bit too forcefully his right knee protested.

The other one couldn't really launch any attack on Don Alejandro, but he parried all of his. He managed a derobement to Alejandro's attempt to entrap his blade. The older man did a redoublement which his opponent parried again in a rather unacademic neuvieme.

Then the younger man finally made a riposte, parried by Don Alejandro in sixte. But while Alejandro did a pass arriere, a few peebles under the ball of his foot rolled away and despite his efforts he lost his balance. _Ah_ , he briefly thought, just a few years earlier he would have reacted on time and with the required strength in his legs to regain it, but now he simply fell down backwards, and since he tried to buffer the landing with both hands he dropped his sword in the process, on top of things! The bandit made the most of it and he kicked the blade away, then he advanced on him, pointing the tip of his sabre at him. He then raised it high above his head for it to gain momentum before quickly bringing it down to strike his opponent while the latter was down.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

While he was urging Tornado toward the hills, where Concepcion indicated they had spotted the horse which Leonor recognised as one of her kidnapper's mounts, Zorro's mind was very unquiet: what if anything had happened to his father just when he was in the middle of his intercourse with Victoria?

And if a child ensued, as initially expected, could he ever look at his offspring without being painfully reminded that something dreadful was happening to his or her grandfather through his own fault, owing to his own failing, the very same moment he had been conceiving this child?

And Felipe... what if something happened to Felipe? Despite what he liked to think, the boy wasn't a man yet, and Diego felt responsible for him and his safety, as well as for his thirst for adventure.

And Leonor! If anything were to happen to their father, how would he tell the little girl? What would he do with her until her mother took her back with her?

He shook his head and focused on the search, intent on looking for any track which either the bandits, Felipe or his father could have left.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

As he saw the bandit's arm and sabre fall down on him, Alejandro quickly thought about rolling on his side in a desperate attempt to dodge the impact with the sharp edge of the blade. But he finally wasn't sure his reflexes were as good as they used to be, and he feared he wouldn't succeed on time. He braced himself for the impact and for the inevitable pain that would come with it, and he squeezed his eyes shut.


	70. Ch 70 - Oak and steel

As he saw the bandit's arm and sabre fall down on him, Alejandro quickly thought about rolling on his side in a desperate attempt to dodge the blade, but at last he realised that his reflexes were not as good as they used to be anymore, and he feared he wouldn't manage on time. He braced himself for the impact in case he wasn't fast enough and for the ineluctable pain that would ensue, he squeezed his eyes shut and–

And _nothing_.

Well, no, not exactly nothing: he heard a _clunk_.

Not feeling any intense and searing pain, not even a touch, Alejandro finally opened his eyes. And what he saw then amazed him.

A wooden stick was blocking the blade and was drawing an X half way between Alejandro and his attacker. Not believing his luck, the older man blinked and took a better look around him: the piece of wood was a two-to-three feet long branch of white oak, and one of its end was being tightly held by Felipe's right hand.

Alejandro let out a sigh of relief and suddenly understood what happened: while he was fighting with the bandit, the boy picked up a branch of dead wood that had previously fallen or been broken from a nearby white oak on the ground, and he stepped in when Alejandro fell, rushing to his dear patrón's rescue by interposing himself.

He was holding the wooden stick as though it were a sword, and used it to parry in septime the bandit's attack on the disarmed man.

Under the shock of the impact, the sharp edge of the blade made a small dent in the branch, but oak was a hard wood and the sabre didn't penetrate too deep in the stick. With a flick of his wrist and making the most of his opponent's stunned surprise, Felipe dislodge the blade from his makeshift weapon.

Then the two young men engaged in a fight, sabre against stick, steel against wood, with Felipe mainly parrying his adversary's attacks with his stick. Alejandro couldn't believe his eyes: his young deaf servant was expertly handling his makeshift 'sword', parrying or dodging each and every of his opponent's attacks, and sometimes even touching him with the tip of his stick either on the forearm, the shoulder or the biceps.

All this with just a branch of white oak! Alejandro marvelled at that, as well as at the boy's foot work: advances, some lunges, passe avant, passe arriere, and even a balestra! For a minute or two, Alejandro was too stunned to react, then he got a grip on himself and stood up. Felipe needed his help, where was his sword?

He looked around and finally spotted it a dozen yards away, where the stranger had sent it flying, in a nearby bush. He rushed to it and was about to come to his young friend's rescue when, turning again toward the two duelling young men, he saw Felipe link parries and attacks together: seconde – lunge – sixte – fleche – turnabout – tierce – feint – lunge – parry-riposte – another feint – quarte – envelopment of the wooden stick around his opponent's blade, and with a small flick of his wrist, Felipe had the tip of his 'sword' hit the hilt of the sabre as well as the man's left hand, making his sabre fly high above. He immediately raised his own left hand while still holding the bandit at bay with the tip of his stick on the man's throat, and he grabbed the falling sabre's hilt in his free hand.

Alejandro was speechless.

Relieved for his young friend, yes, but as speechless as him. This boy really had hidden talents!

Then Felipe replaced his oak branch with the tip of his newly gained blade under the young bandit's chin.

Alejandro replayed before his mind's eye the last sequence, the last phrase of the fight he had just witnessed. It vaguely pulled at something in his memory, but what exactly? He confusedly thought he had already seen these combinations somewhere, sometime, but he couldn't put his finger on where or when.

Or _whom_.

But the former soldier in him quickly recovered from his surprise and soon he too was pointing his sword at their defeated enemy.

"That was brilliant, Felipe!" Alejandro said with awe in his voice, once the boy finally looked at him. "Now please, bind this young man's hands behind his back, will you? Then he and us can have some serious talk..."

Felipe nodded, let Don Alejandro take the sabre in his free hand and, while the kidnapper still had two blades pointed at his throat, he took the man's pistol out from his waistband and tied his wrists together with his own belt. He then inspected the gun, but it was not loaded; after that he went to the pond, picked up the drenched shirt and used it to tightly bind their prisoner's ankles together too.

"Well thought, Felipe: that way our new... _acquaintance_ here won't have the rather rude idea of trying to give us the slip."

Felipe took back his previous place beside his patron.

"Take back this sabre, Felipe; after all, it's only fair: you won it with flying colours!"

The young man had a pleased smile and did his best to take the compliment in all modesty. But perhaps he failed a bit at it! Then he chastised himself a bit: hopefully Don Alejandro wouldn't wonder too much how he came to learn such moves and combinations!

But thankfully, right now his patrón seemed to have other matters on his mind: he had turned his full attention on the prisoner and started questioning him:

"First things first, young man: your name! Quick!"

Alejandro meant business and the man at the tip of his blade turned pale. The older man just had to prod a little bit on the skin of his throat to have him say in a croaked breathy voice:

"Pedro Vidal."

Felipe took a better look at him, and assessed that his former adversary was more or less the same age as himself, if not slightly younger. Seventeen to twenty, something like that?

Don Alejandro's nostrils flared and in a very cold and threatening voice he then told him:

"Well, Pedro Vidal, I don't know how old you are and I don't care at all, but you are going to tell me where are your other fellow comrades."

'Pedro' looked at him, a bit at a loss, then he bitterly and dejectedly spat out:

"No idea..."

Don Alejandro didn't like this answer at all, so the tip of his sword grazed the skin of the boy's throat.

"I swear, Señor, I swear!" the boy assured him. "They left me! They left me behind! When– when the man in black attacked us and Pablo didn't join us, we– we– I said we couldn't go back to San Diego because Pablo was going to give us away... But they disagreed and we quarrelled. Frederico said no one would care to run after us all the way to San Diego or even send word there, and Aymar– well, he didn't say anything but he– well, he said we'd better split up and go our separate ways. I tried to tell them– I didn't have anywhere to go or to hide, but they didn't care and they rode off! They simply left me! I have all my relatives in San Diego, I had nowhere else to go... I decided to go in hiding in the hills for some time and then try to discreetly go home, but..."

"But?" Alejandro asked, threateningly.

"But... I didn't have anything to eat... and no weapon left... so this morning I... I went out and I rode to a farm..." He sheepishly looked at Don Alejandro and added in a lowered voice: "I stole a few things when everyone was out... And I also got hold of a sword and a gun... But I didn't know where to go, where to sleep, so I stayed here, taking shelter in the cave..."

"Well," Don Alejandro retorted, "I have good news for you: you won't have to worry about room and board for the couple of years to come!"

Pedro threw him a dirty look.

"Of course now you boast and brag," he spat at Alejandro, "you're putting on airs and graces, but you were less proud just a few minutes ago when I had you on the ground and under my sword... And if not for your servant," he indicated Felipe, "you'd be but a heap of flesh in a pool of red blood right now, _Excelencia_!"

This very instant, Alejandro knew who this Pedro Vidal was. But it had been so many years... Such an impish little boy! Such a lively and eager child! And to think that he turned out so badly!

"Why...?" Alejandro asked. "Why my daughter...? Why did you do such a despicable thing?"

"Why?!" he repeated with a sad and bitter laugh. "Why?" he said again in a mocking tone this time, and with a sneer. "For the money of course, you old fool! What do you think? That it grows on trees? I'm game for anything if there's a pretty sum of money at stake."

"But it's not a transaction over some cattle we're talking about here," Alejandro disbelievingly replied. "It's my daughter, for Heaven's sake!"

But the young man simply shrugged. Little girl, human, dog, horse, cow, gold, contraband... whatever!

"And for your information, _this_ ," Alejandro pointed at Felipe's blade, "is not a sword but a sabre, young man," he stressed out. "Oh, and let me guess... You didn't find bullets or powder for the pistol, right?"

This boy really was just an amateur, he thought. Probably all haughty and braggart when armed and in a group, feeling strong through his weapons and through the pack, but once singled out and faced with someone who had seen a few things in his days...

And precisely, thinking about what he saw in the past, Alejandro remembered why the fencing combination Felipe used felt vaguely familiar to him... He _had_ seen someone else perform it. Yes. Yes, that's it. Why didn't he remember earlier? Why didn't he make the connection sooner?

But in his defence, the link between Felipe and the man wasn't that obvious, so there was no reason that Felipe would have taken a leaf out of his book through simply watching him fence, but apparently the boy was both a natural and a fast-learner...

Edmund Kendall...

Yes, Felipe seemed to have made the most of Sir Edmund's short stay at the hacienda three years before!

Ah, if only Diego could have just a tenth of this boy's talent and eagerness...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Zorro was still following the tracks he had spotted earlier, and he finally saw his father's mare and another one of their horses munching some dried grass near a formation of giant boulders, above a canyon. But no sign of either his father or of Felipe...

He dismounted and approached Dulcinea, putting a calming hand on her neck, gently stroking her mane.

"Dulcinea, dear girl, where's the patrón?" the masked man asked in a soft voice. "What has he gotten himself into, this time, uh?"

Another lump grew large in his throat.

"And Felipe?" he added in a whisper. "Has anything happened to him?"

A sudden cold sweat ran down his spine, and he rushed to the edge of the canyon, looking down with dread in his heart and down to the pit of his stomach. But thank God he didn't see any sign of fallen bodies down there. _Gracias a Dios_.

He sighed with intense relief and turned to Tornado again when he saw some movement come from... from _inside_ the rocks?

Then Zorro took a better look and saw that part of it was hollow, and Felipe was walking out of this cave, holding the reins or an unknown horse. On this horse, a man was lying across the saddle and on his belly, his tied up hands and feet dangling on either side of the mount.

Don Alejandro was bringing up the rear, with his sword drawn and pointed at the man on the horse.

They stopped as soon as they saw Tornado and Alejandro called "Señor Zorro?"

"I'm here, Don Alejandro" Diego replied from the side. "Are you all right, Señor?" Then he turned to his young friend and accomplice: "Felipe?"

The boy nodded and Zorro finally noticed the duelling sabre hanging from his waist.

"What happened?" he asked. "What's this?" he added, pointing at the blade.

"Spoils of war," Alejandro simply answered. "You know, Señor Zorro, according to what I've just witnessed," he nodded at Felipe, "you might have competition in a couple of years, if this young man takes lessons with the right masters... You should have seen that, he was absolutely brilliant!"

Felipe went beet-red although he couldn't help but beam at the praise, whereas Zorro went white under his mask:

"You fought?" he asked, sounding alarmed. "Against this man?" he added, with a nod toward the prisoner. "Dios, are you all right? Are you wounded anywhere? Felipe!"

Zorro seemed to be very concerned, Alejandro thought, and much more alarmed than he should. But after all, he was _Zorro_ , he _did_ care...

The young man signed that he was all right, unhurt, and then he pointed at the man on the horse. He made the sign for "little girl", and then a series of other gestures.

"He means that this man is one of the scoundrels who kidnapped Leonor," Don Alejandro translated, emphasising the word 'scoundrels'. "Oh, by the way," he added in a significantly lower and slightly sheepish voice, "Leonor is my–"

"I know," Zorro cut him. "The news had spread all over the pueblo and even beyond, by now."

"Oh," his father simply said. "Yes, well..."

Diego bit his lower lip: he still wasn't completely at ease with the constant reminder that his father and another woman than his mother had– But he suddenly remembered his own plans with Victoria and his hopes for paternity.

"Well," he said all of a sudden, "I guess congratulations are in order, Don Alejandro..."

And in a commendable effort which only Felipe could assess at its true worth, Diego/Zorro held out his gloved hand to his own father, basically congratulating him for providing him with a bastard half-sister. But to be honest with himself, Diego had to admit that he was starting to warm to the little girl, perhaps even to _like_ her, and he wouldn't want anything to happen to his baby sister.

Alejandro warmly shook the proffered hand. But a small part of him couldn't help but be reminded that this man might be an admirable man, but he also was his son's rival for Victoria's affection. Or rather, unfortunately for Diego, not even a rival but simply the winner of her heart. A man who didn't even tell her his name or show her his face! Not that honourable, he thought. _I may have fathered an illegitimate child, but at least I did it as myself, I never hid behind a mask or concealed my identity to woo a woman and steal kisses from her!_

 _And of course my Diego would never do this either_ , he added inwardly. The de la Vegas were better than that.

"Well," Alejandro finally said, "since we're here and we have–"

He stopped short. No, he honestly couldn't usurp part of Felipe's feat of arms!

"Since Felipe vanquished this cabr–" he stopped again, "this _man_ , we're going to bring him to the garrison ourselves, and hand him over to the sergeant and the alcalde. I suppose you'd rather avoid crossing path with them..."

"Indeed. We have some... difference of opinion over a few matters, as you are very well aware of..."

Alejandro and Felipe smiled. 'Difference of opinion', to say the least. It was a way of putting it.

Then Zorro turned back to Felipe:

"Young man, what you did was very, very dangerous. You could have been killed, for God's sake!"

"Well, all is well that ends well," Don Alejandro stated, a bit too lightly for his son's liking. "Except for him," he added, taking the prisoner's head by his hair and raising it so that Zorro could see the man's face closely.

Diego looked at it.

"But he's only a kid!" he shouted, surprised.

"I don't care one bit, Señor," Don Alejandro retorted sharply.

Diego was taken aback by his father's sudden harshness.

"Really, Don Alejandro, I'm sure he's not even twenty." He turned to the prisoner. "How old are you?" he asked him.

"Eigh– Eighteen..." the young man let out.

"And my daughter is only SIX!" the indignant father spat at him.

This retort put things into perspective of course, Zorro thought. And yes, the man was indeed a bandit, and a kidnapper, and a blackmailer! Or at least, he took part in all of the above.

"All right," Zorro told them, "take him to the pueblo."

He mounted on Tornado.

"Señores," he said, "hasta la vista! Oh and, young man..." he added, addressing Felipe, "take care, and please, please be more careful!"

Alejandro waved his goodbye at the masked man, but inwardly he wasn't unhappy that Zorro didn't insist on bringing the bandit to the pueblo himself. Of course he cared for the outlaw's safety, but also... well, Alejandro couldn't help but think that the less Victoria had opportunities to see Zorro – and especially to see him in a situation which put him in a rather favourable light – the better it would be for Diego's chances!


	71. Ch 71 - Let the sunshine in

When Diego arrived back home, he came across Concepcion in the corridor leading to the guestrooms, and he pretended having searched for his father but not found him. _Well, he didn't search very long,_ the woman thought.

He immediately inquired about Leonor.

"She's finally fallen asleep," Concepcion answered, "and she hasn't roused yet. I know it's rather late, but I didn't want to wake her up: to tell her what? That we still didn't have any news of her father? At least while she is sleeping, she is not worrying..."

Diego nodded approvingly: yes, that was the right thing to do. And in fact he was rather relieved that his sister was not awake: he too wouldn't have known what to tell her either, except repeated reassurances that "everything is going to be all right, I'm sure".

So when his father and Felipe finally came home, he was really happy that Don Alejandro took charge again as to what to do with Leonor and what to tell her; and indeed the older man went straight to his daughter's bedroom, which left time for Diego to take Felipe apart and ask him for a detailed account of what exactly happened since they left the pueblo several hours earlier.

When Leonor woke up she found a large, weathered, wrinkled and slightly rough and calloused hand in her soft one, and her sleepy look soon lit up at the sight of her papá sitting in an armchair at her bedside.

"Oh, you're here Papá!"

And she jolted up and flung herself in his lap. Alejandro held her tight against his chest, encircling her in his arms and rocking her a little bit, kissing the top of her head from time to time.

"Si, mi rayito de sol," he softly told her. "I'm back"

"Did you kill the mean man, Papá?"

Alejandro started.

"NO!" he shouted, sounding horrified. "No, fortunately not. But don't worry, he won't do any harm anymore, now. He is in jail."

"Really?"

Alejandro nodded.

"And did you make sure the cell is well locked?"

He smiled.

"The sergeant certainly did, mi cariño, rest assured."

Then a sudden thought had her sit bolt upright:

"And Felipe? Is he all right, Papá? Is he hurt? Where is he? Is he–"

"Shh, shh, mi amor, calm down, Felipe too is all right. He's come home with me half an hour ago."

"And the mean man didn't hurt him either? He didn't hurt anyone else?"

"No Leonor, he didn't."

He lowered his head and once again kissed her hair.

"So you captured the mean señor?" Leonor asked again. "I knew that you were the best. You're the strongest, Papá!"

Alejandro would have really, really wanted to let his daughter believe this version, would have really wanted to be her hero, but he knew he couldn't downright lie to her about that. Not to mention that at least three other persons knew the truth by now: Felipe, Zorro, and now Diego. And he couldn't despoil the young man from his victory and claim his feat for himself!

"No mi gatita," he answered with a small sigh, "but thankfully Felipe did."

The child's face lit up and beamed.

"Felipe?" she asked with eagerness in her voice.

Alejandro suppressed another sigh: thankfully Araceli wasn't here to see their daughter's obvious worship of the boy grow even stronger!

"Yes. And then we took him to the pueblo and put him in jail. That's over now."

"He won't come back?"

"He won't come back."

Leonor snuggled against her papá and rested her forehead in the crook of his neck.

"I wanted to come and help you, you know," she said after a quiet pause. "I tried to, but Diego saw me; he forbid me to do so and he sent me to bed," she added in a complaining voice, pouting a bit. "He's mean!"

At that, Alejandro sat her back on her mattress and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Leonor, you are NOT to say that of your brother. That's not the done thing. And Diego is certainly NOT mean. Quite the contrary. He simply wanted to protect you. You are just a child, a little girl can't do anything against bandits, and it would have been very dangerous for you to come with us. Diego only worried for you, and he was absolutely right to want you to stay home. I would have told you exactly the same if I had been home."

She looked at him with wide eyes, disappointed at his dismissal of her generous help.

"You are a very courageous little girl, mi gatita, but some things are to be left for grown-ups," her father told her. "And for men, whatever your mother might say."

Now Leonor was pouting resolutely and rather stubbornly, looking intently at her own knees.

"Leonor..." her called her, "Leonor, look at me..."

She reluctantly raised her gaze to him.

"Now promise me you won't say such ill words about Diego. He cares for you, he wants to protect you, and he is the opposite of mean, comprendes?"

Leonor pinched her lips together and she half-heartedly nodded. All right, she'd give Diego another chance, she decided.

"And Felipe, where is he?" she eagerly asked again.

Alejandro sighed. Oh, this one... when she had set her mind on something... Stubborn like a true Ximénez! Her mother's heritage, he thought...

But then his daughter raised on him a warm sparkling gaze, as soft-looking as velvet.

"I love you Papá," she finally let out in a hoarse but tender and heartfelt voice.

Alejandro melted. And he also inwardly puffed himself up. He gazed at her with the sweetest look on his face.

Because be it as it may, in Leonor's child's little heart her papá was still number one.

Without contest.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

After a copious meal – Alejandro and Felipe had unwillingly skipped lunch, after all! – Leonor clung to Felipe, asking him how he caught the mean señor. She had heard Diego thank him earlier before dinner for having saved their papá's life, but she didn't understand why her big brother sounded a bit severe, as though he wasn't totally happy with Felipe. She really didn't understand why, but it reminded her of when Diego had forbidden her to go to Papá's help, especially when he told him that it had been a really dangerous thing to do.

Why didn't he want anyone to help Papá? She had no idea. It was not like he had rushed to Papá's help himself, so someone else had to! Despite what Papá said, wasn't Diego a bit mean?

But just after that, she saw him hug Felipe for a rather long time, so she understood even less! Was Diego happy with him or unhappy? Did he like him or not? Was he mean or not?

Pff, grown-ups were really, really complicated persons...

But Leonor retained one thing in all this: Felipe had saved her Papá's life. And from this moment, her liking of the young man turned to sheer admiration, to hero worship. When Concepcion took her to bed and Felipe thus waved her good night, she was looking at him with stars in her deep big dark eyes.

Diego retreated to his bedroom where he wrote down a note which he slipped in an envelope that he sealed, leaving the wax unstamped so that from the outside no one could tell whom the letter was coming from.

Then he went to bed early: he never knew when Zorro would be needed, so better take the rest he could when he could!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

A radiant sun was rising over Los Angeles when Victoria woke up to the insistent chirping of a nearby bird. Damn creature! She furiously wanted to fry it in one of her pans – preferably _alive_ – but there was probably hardly anything to eat in this grating twittering ball of feathers...

She tore herself from her birdicidal thoughts and got up. Too late to go back to sleep, anyway. Rise and shine, Victoria! Another bright day was beginning.

Later in the morning, she was browning the pork for the olla podrida she was preparing in a big copper stewpot when someone knocked on the kitchen's backdoor and almost immediately entered without waiting for her answer.

"Oh, good morning Felipe!" she greeted him with a large smile. She liked this boy, he was always good natured. And courageous: the day before, he and Don Alejandro had caught one of the men who abducted little Leonor and they handed him over to Mendoza and de Soto.

She was about to congratulate him when she noticed that he seemed to be hiding something behind his back.

"What do you have here?" she asked, pointing at it.

It was a small burlap sack. He put it on a bench and plunged his hand in it. She saw him take a bunch of flowers out of it and hand it to her.

"For me?" she asked.

He nodded and thrust it in her arms with a smile as radiant as the sun shining outside.

Then he quickly waved her his goodbye and left immediately after with his empty bag, before she could even react.

Flowers! No one usually gave her flowers. Save Zorro, of course! But with him it had always been red roses only...

Here, it was different. She looked down at the bouquet: right in the middle of it a tall and large sunflower was proudly raising its bright head high up. It was surrounded with three shorter light pink hollyhocks, three scarlet poppies, three large daisies, three yellow roses, three orange lilies, all this largely sprinkled with baby's-breath forming an airy cloud of countless quivering teenie-weenie white pompoms.

It was nice. Lovely. And very vivid. _Cheerful_ , even.

 _Merry_.

She saw a small white envelope slipped between the stems and took it. It was closed and sealed with wax, but anonymously so. Not even her name on it either! She opened it anyway and took a white card out of it. It was looking like a calling card – small, obviously rather expensive and very smooth – except that nothing was printed on it. But on one side an elegant handwriting was adorning it with the loveliest garland of words that had ever been addressed at her:

_I want to light in your belly a sun which will illuminate our lives._

And by way of signature, a single letter.

_D._


	72. Ch 72 - Flower power

On the way to the pueblo Felipe had rejoiced: earlier in the morning Diego had asked him to bring a bouquet of wildflowers to Victoria, but to do so as discreetly as possible. No one but her should know about it.

Had Diego finally grown a spine and decided to declare to her the true extend of his affections? Or was he just trying to win hers with a few sweet nothings like wild flowers?

Anyway, Diego clearly intended for it to remain between the two of them for now – well, the _three_ of them, Felipe thought.

He confusedly felt that there was something Diego wasn't telling him about this, and the fact that he sealed his note to Victoria before giving it to him confirmed this suspicion. And of course it only roused and kindled Felipe's curiosity as to the content of this message itself.

He had been really tempted to... But no, no, Diego trusted him, always had, so he didn't have the right to...

_Oh, come on, just a peek, it can't hurt...!_

_NO! No, that wasn't the done thing._

_Well, yes of course, but–_

_NO 'BUT'! That's a flat 'no' and that's it._

_And anyway, if I broke the wax Victoria would see it, I don't have anything with me to melt it again after I read the note._

Felipe sighed. Too bad! But again he wondered what kind of message a man who's trying to woo a girl he likes could sent her to try to win her heart. This kind of knowledge could come in handy, especially when you couldn't speak!

Then, Felipe suddenly remembered that Diego hadn't even written Victoria's name on the envelope: did he want to prevent anyone finding this missive by mistake know who it was intended for?

On the other hand, it wasn't an anonymous letter or a message from Zorro either, or else Diego wouldn't have asked him to give it himself to Victoria! Everyone – and certainly Victoria Escalante – would immediately make the connexion between something delivered by Felipe on the one hand, and the de la Vegas – and especially Don Diego – on the other hand!

So. A secrecy to anyone in Los Angeles, but _not_ to Victoria...

Either it was a discreet budding courtship – or at least an attempt at it – or there was possibly a mystery behind this message; and Felipe, the best spy around Los Angeles and its vicinity, decided he would discover what it was!

And now on the way home, he was keeping his fingers crossed that whatever it meant, Victoria liked Diego's thoughtful attention or show of appreciation.

When he arrived he found Diego on a bench in the garden, busy sketching while Don Alejandro was apparently posing for him at the other end of the bench. It seeemed they were fulfilling the promise Diego made to his sister to draw a portrait of their father for her bedroom. A few feet away from them, Leonor was playing hoop rolling under Concepcion's watchful look.

Don Alejandro spotted him first and greeted him with a large smile, springing on his feet.

"Oh Felipe, you're back!"

"Father!" Diego protested, "I'm not finish–"

"Oh, for the love of God!" his father sighed, "You'll finish it later, Diego!"

"But Father–"

"Felipe my boy, come here and save me," Don Alejandro said. "What would you say about crossing swords with me a bit before lunch, hmm? And don't go too soft on me, young man. I now know that you've been holding back on me all these past months."

 _You can make it 'past years',_ Diego thought, inwardly proud of his pupil.

"But Father," he insisted, "just a few more couple of minutes, I'm almost done with your portrait!"

"A few more minutes?!" Don Alejandro exclaimed. "But it's taking ages! I feel like I've been sitting here unmoving for the whole morning! I'm starting to feel pins and needles in my legs, too much inactivity, you see. They are feeling restless."

"Oh please Father..." Diego said "you're exaggerating, it's only been ten minutes!"

"Ten minutes unmoving, ten minutes of inactivity! That's an eternity for some people, my son!"

Diego sighed, resigned. Then he said:

"Oh, Felipe, before you go... Hmm... what of the errand I sent you on...?" he asked, purposely keeping very vague about it.

Felipe smiled cheekily and thumbed up at him. _Mission accomplished, without so much as a hitch._

"What errand, Diego?" Alejandro asked distractedly, not really interested in Diego's quirks.

"Hmm, something about wild flora and flowering plants," he answered, sounding absolutely anodyne and... boring, as usual. "Flowers and seed... sun... sowing... things like that," he added.

Alejandro once more sighed with frustration at his son's very not virile interests. Oh, this boy! That was not how he was going to win Victoria over, especially versus Zorro! Really, all these obsessions with plant life and herbs and gluing them in notebooks – _herbals_ , Diego called these – wouldn't be of any help to him when the time comes to vie for her hand.

"Come, Felipe," he simply said, putting a gentle hand on the young man's shoulder to drag him with him.

"But Papá, your portrait!" Leonor plaintively protested.

Alejandro sighed again and turned to her.

"All right, I'll let Diego finish it before dinner, I promise. Happy?"

The girl nodded.

Then Felipe did a series of signs that she didn't understand.

"He says that while I finish Father's portrait for you," Diego translated for her, "he'll try to draw one of you if you can stay put longer than our dear papá..."

But to Felipe's utter astonishment, Leonor's face turned crimson, and she half-opened her mouth but no sound came out of it; then a split second later she turned on her heels and hurriedly fled the courtyard, turning round the corner and rushing inside the house. Concepcion followed her and a stunned Felipe stood rooted there, wondering what had just gotten into this child.

He turned to Don Alejandro and Diego, making a clear sign of total bewilderment and incomprehension.

 _What did I say?_ it meant.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

It was almost lunchtime but Victoria took the time to look again at the bouquet of flowers lying on her kitchen's table: really, she couldn't leave it like that, without water, without care, without... consideration. It was too beautiful for it. It would be a real shame!

She suddenly regretted she had wrathfully broken her only vase. Now she didn't have anything to put this bouquet in, too bad!

But on the other hand she found it fitting: after all, she would have felt slightly bad putting Don Diego's flowers in Zorro's vase... Curiously it felt a bit... wrong. A very slight bit... cheaty. She dispelled this thought. She had grown tired of Zorro's red roses, never-ending signs of still _nothing_ happening. Repeatedly so.

At least with Diego...

With _Don_ Diego, she corrected herself. Don Diego kept his promises, and he didn't wait till Doomsday for that. A man of his word, she thought. A true de la Vega, whatever the rest of the pueblo may say, whatever Don Alejandro himself might sometimes think. His son was a good and respectable man.

 _And a true friend_ she thought, looking at the flowers lying uncared-for on a wooden table in the middle of her kitchen.

She suddenly remembered what sort of place she was in, what sort of business she was running, and she mentally kicked herself: of course! She grabbed a pitcher and filled it with water, then she took the flowers and settled these in it, arranging the bouquet.

"Here," she murmured, "you feel better like that, don't you?"

Then she set the pitcher-turned-vase near the window, away from the stove. Strangely, she didn't feel like bringing it in the main room, on a shelf behind her bar. It felt a bit too personal, too intimate to be shared with everyone. With _anyone_ , in fact. Anyone else than Don Diego and herself.

She looked at the bright sunflower as well as at the wiggling baby's-breath, and she smiled. _Baby's breath..._

She already knew that this man had a way with words with a pen, that Felipe talked through hand gestures and that Don Diego understood it, but today she discovered that he could convey a message through flowers too.


	73. Ch 73 - The bids and the busy bees

Siesta time. In her kitchen, Victoria looked at the clock for the third time in the space of fifteen minutes. She was wiping the dishes dry, waiting for Diego to arrive. Because he was going to come, right?

When she got up in the morning she doubted it a bit – after all he hadn't seemed overly enthusiastic the day before – but since she received his bouquet, her doubts melted away. Yes, he'd surely come, that was even the whole meaning of his message, right?

She crossed her fingers that she didn't deter him and that he still agreed to go on with sleeping with her for the time needed to obtain the desired result. She knew she had been rather dull – well, she _had_ found it to be a bit boring, after all! – and she had made the promise to herself the night before that she would try to make it less off-putting for him. That she would try to be... kinder, in an almost amorous way. But, she suddenly thought with a pang of panic, perhaps he didn't want her to? Perhaps he'd think it to be too... inappropriate? After all, she wasn't either his girlfriend or his sweetheart! Perhaps he thought she didn't have the right to be so... personal with him? After all, pure mating was one thing, but Don Diego may think that amorous-like touching of him was to remain another woman's territory, and not a mere family friend's...

And truth be told, from day one, from the moment the idea took shape in her mind, it had also been how she too had envisioned things to be between the two of them anyway. And it was still how she had considered these just yesterday. Even while they were indeed carrying the deed out. And even in the minutes or hours after, too.

So why did now this clear distinction suddenly almost... almost bother her a bit?

No, she dispelled the thought. She was probably thinking too much. Too much anticipation, maybe. It wasn't good on her wandering mind, apparently.

'Anticipation', because she was set on making up to him for her previous dullness and blandness. Insipidness.

_If he comes, that is._

Her eyes briefly caught sight of the sunny bouquet in her water pitcher. _When_ he comes, she corrected. She trusted him. He would be true to his word.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

To be honest, right when he had been on his way home from Victoria's tavern the day before, and then when he had been brooding down in the cave, Diego had almost chickened out after his poor performance, dreading the day after's siesta time, even trying to find a good excuse for 'playing hookey' and skipping the next day's hanky-panky siesta. And then the whole ordeal with his father and Felipe occurred and he had his mind otherwise occupied.

After dinner he had felt a bit more serene, had tried to write a nice and kind message for Victoria in order to make up for the botched sex. He wasn't still totally sure that this coldness wasn't precisely what she expected though, but he couldn't bear the memory of such awkwardness and uneasiness, and he wanted to at least dispel it a little bit. And a few kind words may do that. After all, discreetly sending a nice note to a woman you just slept with – whatever the reason – was the done thing, right? It wouldn't seem too... forward... or inappropriate, even in their peculiar situation, would it?

Oh, and why not flowers too!

Carefully chosen flowers, nothing that would scare her away, nothing that would make her wary... or suspecting.

He had fallen asleep trying to find the most fitting sorts of flowers to reassure her about it all.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

She was almost done with wiping all the dishes dry when the kitchen's back door opened and Don Diego sneaked inside.

She suppressed a start at his swiftness and turned to him with an almost relieved smile on her face.

"Oh, good afternoon Don Diego," she greeted him, trying to sound normal despite the situation.

He looked at her, not unlike the way Leonor had looked at Felipe the day before: a mix of surprise, embarrassed delight and... a hint of horror. And once again he was feeling his face grow a bit warm.

"Uh– Good afternoon Victoria," he finally replied. "You're already here? I mean... here in the kitchen, and not in the main room anymore..."

 _Yeah, way to go, stating the obvious,_ he mentally kicked himself.

She put her towel down on the table. "Thank you for the flowers," she said, gesturing at it. "It's a very lovely bouquet."

Then she went silent. He nodded.

"Er... yes," he finally let out, "I... er... thought it would be– Well, I'm glad you like it."

"But what about Felipe...?" Victoria asked. "Won't he wonder why you sent me flowers?"

 _Ow..._ He couldn't tell her that Felipe probably thought he was intending to court her... which he wasn't!

"He... I told him you helped me for the _Guardian_ , and that I wanted to thank you."

Victoria felt relieved by this explanation. But then she suddenly asked him:

"For the _Guardian_? Me? I really wonder what exactly I could do for you there... Fortunately Felipe didn't ask for more details, right?"

"No he didn't," Diego answered a bit uneasily.

She nodded sharply and suddenly gestured to the stairs, showing the way for him.

"All right. Shall we?" she asked in a lighter voice than the day before, turning to him with a somewhat strained smile, though...

Strained, but not insincere.

"Er... yes, but..." he said a bit hesitantly, "don't you want to finish this before?" he asked pointing at the last three wet frying pans and at her towel.

From the bottom of the stairs she just shrugged and extended an arm and hand toward him by way of invitation.

"Bah, it will dry just as well all by itself, after all," she said. "Come," she added with a genuine smile.

And she started climbing the stairs.

But just as Don Diego had finally put a foot on the first step she stopped short, turned around and went down the stairs again, shoving him aside a little bit – "Oh, sorry Don Diego" – walked back to the table and grabbed her bouquet as well as its pitcher. Then she went back to the stairs, walked past Don Diego again – "Excuse me Don Diego" – and resumed climbing upstairs.

She simply turned to him again and said with a merry grin:

"I'm taking it to my room, if you don't mind. It's very nice, but in fact I found that I don't want to share these flowers with my customers."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Well, it had been... _rather_ _nice_ , Victoria thought, absent-mindedly staring at the ceiling while Don Diego was catching his breath back.

Outside, the nasty mocking little bird was back and twittering again. _Oh no!_ did it really have to ruin the quietness of moment!

Too bad Don Diego was so hopeless with weapons, or she would have asked him to come with a shotgun next time!

But God or Saint Francis of Assisi apparently heard her thoughts and decided she really wasn't a worst sinner that just anyone else, because the bird suddenly went silent. Perhaps it had flown away to less dangerous skies?

She inwardly thanked the Lord, and her thoughts went back to the past few minutes since the moment she and Don Diego entered her bedroom.


	74. Ch 74 - Nice

At first when she had opened the door to her bedroom she had been rather resolute, but still feeling very awkward at the same time. Resolute to make it up to him for last time, but also at a loss as to what he would like. And still quite awkward at having to be that intimate with Don Diego.

She didn't dare touch him even though she knew she'd eventually have to; well, no, not just 'eventually', but in fact rather soon enough, early into getting to bed with him. But where? How?

Hmm, first things first she thought: right now she had to put her flowers down somewhere so that she could have both hands free. And she wanted to honour Don Diego by setting his bouquet in a prominent place. So she put the pitcher down on her dressing table, right in the middle of it for the moment, just in front of the mirror.

"Interesting choice of container," Diego commented, gesturing to the jug and forcing his voice past the lump in his throat, almost making it sound casual. _Almost_ , only. "Didn't you have a vase, before?"

He mentally bit his tongue as soon as he said the word: he wasn't supposed to have ever been in this room earlier than the day before!

"I mean," he hastily corrected, "don't you have a vase?"

"I used to," she answered. "But it recently had... an unfortunate accident."

She took a deep breath and fully turned to him:

"Please, make yourself comfortable Don Diego," she offered.

It sounded like a very polite and urbane usual sentence generally used to greet a guest and put him at ease, but in their peculiar situation and furthermore, _in this room_ and _at this precise moment_ , it was a clear invitation – _prompting?_ – to disrobe.

And she set an example herself by untying the strings of her apron and taking it off. But instead of simply discarding it away in a corner of the room, she neatly folded it before plunging her hand in its pocket. She pulled a small white rectangle out of it and turned to him, holding it before her with a little smile, almost bashful, while telling Don Diego:

"Thank you for this too. It was... very lovely," she said.

And she turned again to display his note with care on her dressing table too, leant against the makeshift vase.

Then she put her folded apron on the back of her chair. When she turned back to Don Diego again, he had taken off his jacket and waistcoat, and was sitting on her bed, untying his shoelaces.

She walked to him and when he was finished taking off his shoes she held out both hands to him. He looked surprised at first, but then he seized them in his and she pulled him up from the bed. Well, he helped her to it of course, thankfully: he really was heavy for such a frail frame as hers!

She noted that when his weight left the mattress, the headboard didn't make any noise against the wall: indeed, she had shifted the bed a bit the night before, just before slipping under the covers. But she just wanted to make sure.

Alright. _Bed: check_.

What was the next thing on the list? Oh, yes: his shirt.

She took a better look at it, and noted with some panicked horror that it had even frillier ruffles than the one he had been wearing the day before. _Oh, no! Not again!_

Definitely had to take it off, or her skin would have a rash for several hours afterwards!

But then she noticed that he still hadn't let go of any of her hands, and they were therefore standing in front of each other, linked by their hands. _Warm_ hands.

And indeed he seemed to become aware of this contact but, instead of abruptly breaking it – like he would have certainly done the day before at the same moment – he lowered his eyes to their joined hands; then he slowly, very slowly raised them to his lips and, still not looking at her, he gently, very lightly dropped a featherlike kiss on the back of her hands.

She didn't know what to do. It was a little bit awkward, she was feeling slightly uneasy at his gesture, but she recognised it as a sign of goodwill and in all honest truth, it was... not unpleasant. Soft. And a bit... _nice_ , in fact.

Still, she absolutely didn't know what to do. _Don't freeze just there, or you'll scare him away!_ So she decided to start with his hands too – since his and hers were already touching, after all. She then lightly, very lightly moved her thumbs back and forth along the back of his hands. Without looking at him, of course! But he didn't withdraw his hands, didn't cringe or recoil, didn't even flinch, in fact he didn't move at all, so she supposed this was alright.

Then he started moving his hands up her forearms, searching her eyes for any sign that it was not okay, an when he didn't see any he went on with it up to her elbows.

She didn't know where to look, but she was feeling too awkward to look him in his eyes, so she settled her gaze on the wall behind him, over there, beyond her bed.

Then she felt that he was lifting her hands to his face again, but this time he turned her hands slightly outward, palms half-facing and half turned to the ceiling, almost like for a Pater Noster. But then she felt something very light and soft and warm and... moist, against the thin and sensitive skin on the inner side of her left wrist.

Oh... Felt... not bad, in fact. Rather pleasant.

 _Yes, definitely pleasant_ she thought when he gave the same kind or care and treatment to her right wrist.

Perhaps she should reciprocate?

When he stopped kissing her wrist she gently pulled his hands down to her mouth and lightly grazed his knuckles with her lips. He showed no sign of discomfort, so she went on and gently kissed his wrists too just like he did to hers. Then she pulled back an inch, took a look at him – eyes closed, tense shoulders but no frown, so she supposed he was alright with what she had just been doing – and then on an impulse she had the sudden and strange idea to blow a light breeze on the dampened skin. She heard him breathe in a faint and shuddering gasp of air. Alarmed, she raised her head sharply and looked at his face: did she do something wrong? Something unpleasant? Something too daring?

She should have asked him before, she chastised herself.

But fortunately he didn't seem to resent her for her rather bold gesture. In fact he was looking as if... as if he was feeling rather good.

Sensing that she had stopped and wasn't doing anything else, he opened his eyes and saw her slightly preoccupied look. He smiled at her that he was alright and she smiled back, blushing a bit, though.

But she didn't dare hold his gaze too long, so she lowered her eyes and her own gaze fell... lower. _Much_ lower. Far too low in fact, and...

Oh! _Oooooh!_

 _Alright_ , she thought, her earlier ministrations hadn't been unpleasant to Don Diego, obviously. _At all._ In fact it did even have some positive effect on him. She may not be the most attractive woman in the world in this man's eyes, but apparently he didn't find her too off-putting anymore, after all.

But instead of feeling relieved, she felt embarrassed. And she blushed, she could feel it. She shouldn't be staring like this, it was Don Diego for God's sake!

She sharply raised her head and looked straight ahead. But she soon forgot her own probable rosy hue when she noted that Don Diego had turned beet-red!

"Victoria, I– I–... I'm sorr–"

"No, don't!" she exclaimed, pressing her raised index finger against his lips. It crushed his upper lip in a funny-looking upward-folded manner, but she didn't notice how weird it made him look, she had her mind elsewhere:

"Don't! Please..." she said in a soft voice, removing her finger from his lips. "After all, that's exactly what we both expect! ...and _need_ , for... er... you know..."

He closed his eyes, nodded, and the scarlet hue of his face faded to a slightly lighter shade of red.

"In fact," Victoria went on in a very low voice, "that's the best compliment I've ever..."

She bit her lower lip, then added:

"I mean... the best you could make to me... er... considering... because it means... er..."

Her voice died in her embarrassed mumbles.

But apparently her own awkwardness and tension was nothing compared with Don Diego's! So in order to show him that everything was okay she took a step closer, stood on tiptoes and chastely kissed his cheek.

 _For the first time ever_ , she realised with a little bit of surprise.

 _Oh!_ She also realised that he had freshly shaven, he even still smelled of shaving soap! He probably had done that just before leaving his home to come here. How thoughtful of him! How sweet!

And then she remembered: the day before, she had smelled this same smell while he was... well... er... _busy_ over her. On the moment she hadn't taken notice of it, bothered as she was by the ruffles of his shirt, the noise of her bed and other distracting thoughts, but now she remembered.

How kind and considerate he was! Strangely, it smelled just like any other shaving soap, nothing fancy, and no Cologne either; nothing like that, no: it simply smelled of... well, of just anyone's soap; but also of cleanliness and thoughtfulness. Of the respect he had for her.

Oh, er... well, just for the trouble taken, she treated his cheek with another kiss. Only for this reason of course!

Then she remembered something else: his shirt.

Alright, no distracting thoughts anymore, now; she was on a mission here: having this damn piece of fabric get out of the way.

She was still feeling very awkward and tense, but fortunately Don Diego seemed to forget the embarrassing current state of his groin, or at least to accept it, and the tension she saw earlier in his shoulders seemed to have eased a bit. She made the most of this relatively relaxed Diego and lifted her right hand to his neck. She lightly ran a finger along his collar and when his breath caught she pinched the tip of his black neckbow between her fingers and pulled on it to untie the knot.

He opened his eyes sharply and looked at her, puzzled. She didn't let it stop her and dared undo the first button of his shirt. She saw him gulp and felt him tense again. She paused.

Then he too lifted his hand to her neck and he touched the skin there, resting his hand just there, unmovingly. And after one or two seconds, just like she did earlier on his hand he ran his thumb back and forth just at the base of her neck, halfway between her shoulder and her ear.

It felt... sweet, she thought. Nice. Something warm melted down inside her. Not in her stomach, no, and not like the butterflies fluttering in her belly when she was thinking of Zorro. It was not in her belly anyway.

No, not exactly down in her stomach. _Lower_.

 _Oh_. Felt weird. Not totally comfortable, no, but not downright uncomfortable either. Weird. It felt as though she needed something but she couldn't tell exactly what.

Then he got closer and hesitantly replaced his hand with his lips. _Oh? Not bad_. Surprisingly so. Come to think of that, it was even a bit embarrassing how _not bad_ she was finding it to feel.

But when he pulled back she didn't know what to do next. So she ruined the mood by bluntly and tactlessly asking him:

"Don Diego, could you please take off your shirt?"

He looked at her a bit stupidly, and clearly unsettled. But for lack of anything better to do, he complied.

As he took a step back to do so, Victoria had a wholer picture of him and saw the first inches of skin below his neck. Respecting his modesty, she lowered her eyes in order to avoid staring at his soon naked half. She had simply forgotten about another embarrassing 'detail' down there and when her eyes caught on it, she couldn't help but notice that it had... _lessened?_

 _Uh?_ It was still there though, thank God, but... Had her blunt and sudden request been that much... mood-killing?

To preserve what was left of his modesty Don Diego turned his back to her while he finished unbuttoning his shirt. Victoria realised that, in order to prevent a further decline of his... _useful equipment_ , she had to spare what little decency he might want to keep, so she told him that on second thought it would be better if he kept his shirt on.

"Unbuttoned is fine with me," she added.

Alright, she thought. _Shirt: check._

Then Victoria also realised that now that he would be bare-chested, his skin would rub against her own blouse in the course of... _well..._ and against the buttons on the front of it. This time he'd be the one uncomfortable!

So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and fully unbuttoned her own top, leaving it on, hanging on her shoulders just like Don Diego's shirt currently was. After all, she told herself to gather some courage, she asked him to open his shirt, so it was only fair that she did the same!

The fresh air on her skin made her realise how naked she was feeling – and how uncomfortable with this idea she was! – but she didn't back out, and when Don Diego turned back to face her she heard a gasp come from him. She opened her eyes and tried hard not to stare at his partial nakedness. Or at his crimson face. In fact, he too was now staring elsewhere than at her exposed bosom.

But she noticed that lower down, his... _interest_ for her had suddenly been revived. Obviously so.

Good. No time to lose, in case it wavered again. She walked to him and to the bed, trying hard not to hide her chest with her arms, sat on the mattress, sent her shoes flying to a corner of the room, lied back and held out her arms to Don Diego

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Now that it was over, Victoria was just lying lazily in bed, calmly listening to Don Diego's breath slowly return to normal. It was strangely lulling. Outside, Los Angeles was still napping, and all was quiet around her. Around them.

 _Nice_. It had been rather nice.

Nothing extraordinary, but nice.

Nothing awesome, nothing amazing, nothing _wow_ , but not unpleasant.

The skin-to-skin sensation of their touching chests or of her hands sometimes roaming under his shirt over his large back had been rather nice. Down, to the small of his back, then slowly up to the nape of his neck: it was smooth, nicely soft, and warm. She noted that he seemed to like it when her hand was wandering down there, right in the small of his back – if his very faint but clearly delighted quavering whimpers were any indication.

The strange stroking of him inside her had felt rather nice, too. The caress of his lips and moustache along her temple or forehead with each thrust had been rather nice, the warm breeze-like sensation of his breath on her skin or hair had felt sweet and not unpleasant.

Even her own weird warm wetness down _there_ had felt quite nice.

As well as the awkward contact of his very personal parts against hers... It had been almost... well, not exactly tickling, but she hadn't remained totally indifferent to it.

Unlike the day before.

Oh, they had still been very awkward toward each other, and tense too, with occasional bumping into each others' limbs or forehead or ribcage or knees, it had been punctuated with "oh, sorry!", "ouch!", "excuse me", but also with amused bashful little smiles at their own awkwardness and clumsiness.

Yes, it had been a little bit... clumsy and awkward, but not bad. Not in an ill-at-ease manner. Nothing too embarrassing.

Clumsy and awkward, admittedly, but not unpleasant.

And yes, she could get used to the way things had been today; strange how different from yesterday's mechanical and unfeeling act it had seemed. Although technically speaking, she didn't think it had been different at all: same things, same moves, same people, same respective positions... How could it be so similar in deed and so different in feel?

A breeze of cool air on her damp skin made her realised how exposed she was and how indecent and immodest her current posture was. She closed her thighs, lowered her knees to the mattress and stretched her legs down her bed. Then she unbunched her skirt and petticoat and pushed these back down her thighs. After that she fastened three buttons on the middle of her blouse and, still lying on her back with her eyes closed, she asked:

"Don Diego, are you alright?"

He nodded, but she couldn't see it.

"Fine," he finally answered, turning to her. "You?"

"Fine too," she echoed. "A bit sleepy, though. I woke up early and the morning has been busy. In fact I think I'm going to lie down a bit till the end of siesta time and have some real rest. You won't resent me if I don't see you to the door?"

He didn't answer immediately. _That's my cue to leave,_ he thought with a slight pang of... hurt?

"Of course I won't," he finally told her in a soft voice. He sat up and buttoned down his shirt. "Stay here and have the rest you need."

He got up from the bed and tucked his shirt back in his trousers.

"Oh, I'm sorry Don Diego, perhaps you too needed to take a short nap? I mean, after..."

She went silent while he was busy straightening his trousers and fastening his belt. Then she went on:

"I should have offered you to stay in bed a bit longer, please excuse me. Where are my manners?"

Despite his slight disappointment, Diego couldn't help a chuckle at this sudden and rather incongruous display of perfectly formal urbanity, considering the circumstances.

She finally grasped the funny side of it too and chuckled as well.

"Well," she said, "I meant–

"I know what you meant, don't worry. That's alright. Father and Felipe may start to look for me anyway, I sneaked out of the hacienda unnoticed without any forged pretext for leaving..."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Do you realise you just sounded like a mischievous teenaged boy rather than a fully grown man?" she asked, clearly amused.

He smiled.

"Perhaps our child will be a mischievous teenager!" he retorted.

She melted, and sent him a smile he couldn't see: he had just sat down on the edge of the mattress and was putting his shoes back on.

"Then I guess we'll have to keep a close watchful eye on him or her, when the time comes..." she told him.

"I'll try to practise this side of parenting on Leonor when she's fifteen: something is telling me that this time is going to be no bed of roses for my father!"

Victoria laughed. And yawned.

"Hmmm," she said afterwards, stretching lazily, "I think I'm going to lie down here a bit longer than the usual time for the end of siesta... And I guess the posture can only be good for... er... you know..."

She turned a very embarrassed shade of pink that Diego mirrored perfectly. A bit too graphic.

But he couldn't tell about the assumed efficiency of it. And they really couldn't ask anyone about that, of course...

He stood from the mattress and put on his waistcoat.

"Er... well, goodbye Victoria. Have a nice rest," he said, still a bit embarrassed at the thought.

He grabbed his jacket, walked round the bed and reached the door.

"Oh, Don Diego!" Victoria called.

He paused and turned to her.

She pointed at the bouquet of flowers on her dressing table.

"It's very lovely, thank you again. But it makes me sad to think that it will eventually fade and die. So perhaps you could... Do you think you could make a painting of it for me? That way I'd have a picture of its radiant blooming beauty to remind me of it once it's gone..."


	75. Ch 75 - Glass, gold and gift

The day after, in the middle of the morning, Victoria heard a knock on her kitchen's backdoor while she was preparing a ceviche as the day's special.

"Señorita Escalante," she heard, "are you here?"

 _Oh_ , it was not Felipe this time, she thought.

Why was she thinking about the young man, anyway? It's not like Don Diego was going to send her flowers every day! And in fact if he did, then the boy would soon become very suspicious: Felipe was no halfwit, whatever some people might say or think.

She went to the door and opened it. Here was a servant of the de la Vegas though, and he handed her a small wooden crate he was holding in his hands. It was closed and the lid was even nailed to it.

"For you, Señorita," the man simply said.

Ah? She hadn't bought any of Don Alejandro's bottles of good wine, though. But perhaps he decided to make up to her for Doña Araceli's supposedly 'turned sour' Madeira?

A slight pang of retrospective guilt made her feel bad toward the dear man. It wasn't his fault! In fact it hadn't even been Doña Araceli's... But _hers_ only.

"What's that?" she asked the man.

The servant just shrugged.

"Don't know," he simply said.

And evidently enough, he couldn't care less.

"The patrón simply said to be careful with it."

 _Oh?_ It was indeed a bottle of wine, then.

She finally took the box from him and put it carefully down on the table.

"Thank you Silvio," she told him, "please come in, have a glass of–"

"Thank you Señorita, but I have to go. Ana said she needed me to fix the washing line before lunch. And if I'm late and she hears I've stopped at the tavern, she'll never believe it was just for a delivery!"

He rolled his eyes meaningfully and Victoria chuckled with him: Silvio's wife could indeed be rather... short-tempered, sometimes. Kind-hearted and very nice, but with a bit of a temper. Since the day he got betrothed to her, Silvio had had to toe the line!

"Another time, then," she said. "Have a nice day Silvio!"

"Gracias Señorita. A nice day to you too!" he replied.

"Oh and, Silvio!" she called him, "don't be late!" she added with a wink.

Victoria had an amused smile when she remembered that a dozen years earlier, her own brother Francisco had been a bit sweet on Ana Saez, but the girl only had eyes for Silvio Abril, even though his parents were just peóns... _Aaaah,_ the innkeeper suddenly thought with a sigh, _the heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of!_

She shut the door, grabbed a tool and went to the box to work on the lid. After just a few efforts she managed to open it and found a cardboard box in the middle of much much straw to wedge it and cushion any bump. She opened this second box, unfolded some very thin tissue paper, found more straw, and in the middle of it, something was wrapped in another sheet of tissue paper.

She took it out of the box, unwrapped it and–

_Oh!_

Not a bottle of wine, after all.

No. It was a vase made in the most beautiful glass she had ever seen. Real crystal, she thought. It was gorgeous – and looked very pricey, too.

She put it down carefully on her table to take a closer look at it. It was beautifully engraved with garland-like lines, and adorned with flowers made by grounding the glass. At the base and top of it, a gilded edging was catching and reflecting the light, and other thin gilded threads were drawing elegant scrolls and curves along the vase. She had never seen anything so refined. At least not so closely.

Was it really gold foil? Anyway, it was probably a very expensive vase. Not the kind you could buy in Los Angeles or its surroundings.

And _oh!_ There, inside the vase was a small white rectangle. She plunged her hand inside and took it out. A small refined envelope sealed with wax. No initials or any other indication on it. She smiled.

She broke the seal and took a small card out of the envelope. A white anonymous card.

 _A chalice for beauty,_  
_a receptacle for our hopes,_  
 _a crystal glass to let light through,_  
 _a vessel for dreams of a sun-filled future_

No signature. Not even a single initial. No need for it, she thought.

She took another close look at the vase and at its delicate decoration. Here and there the gilded border or lines were slightly thinner, or a bit paler. Like _erased_. Faded, time-weathered.

So it was not new. Well, of course! No shop in Los Angeles sold this kind of items, and he only discovered less than twenty four hours earlier that she had no vase, so he couldn't have ordered it from Mexico or even any nearer city. The mailcoach hadn't even left yet!

Something he already owned, then? Something personal? How kind and generous of him!

Was it an item he brought back with him from Spain, all these years ago? She'd ask him when he comes.

But later at lunchtime, Felipe brought her another note from Diego. This one was written on Don Diego's regular stationery and was closed with his seal.

She broke it and unfolded the note. The handwriting was the same, but less elegant, like he had hastily scribbled the words. It read: _Sorry, I'm afraid I won't be able to come to the pueblo today. Father wants me to come with him on some social call at the Ocañas, says it's important for Leonor. My apologies. Rain check?_

Oh! She felt a bit... disappointed? Well, she reasoned, she couldn't ask him to be hers _every day!_

She looked at the note and smiled at his 'rain check' comment.

Then she raised her head and looked right at Felipe, taking great care to speak rather slowly and articulately:

"Don Alejandro is bringing Señorita Leonor to Don Carlos's hacienda this afternoon?"

Felipe nodded. Then he tried to elaborate. But when he realised that Victoria wasn't understanding much of what he was trying to sign, he wrote down his explanation on a piece of paper and handed it to her. When she read it, she pieced the puzzle together.

Don Carlos had been kind to Leonor a few days ago, and now he had issued an invitation to Don Alejandro _and his family_. For lunch.

It was not often that young children shared the adults' table, but of course Don Carlos thought it as a clear sign that he was still holding Don Alejandro in high regard _and_ that the Ocañas didn't intend to shun his daughter or to give her the brush-off, despite the fact that she was a bastard child.

So yes, Victoria understood why this social call was important and why Don Alejandro had insisted that the family _as a whole_ honoured this invitation. And obviously Don Diego too understood it and complied.

That's how the three de la Vegas went to have lunch at the Ocañas. And how Victoria thought that today, she wouldn't have anything better to do at siesta time than... take a nap.

Well, _another time then_ , she thought with a tiny regretful sigh.

She thanked Felipe, not elaborating about the content of the message he had just given her. She noted that this time Don Diego didn't care about anonymising it, but why would he have wanted to? There was nothing incriminating in it, really. Anyone reading it would think he had promised to help her with something mundane – hanging a painting on a wall, proof-reading her agony column for the _Guardian_ , anything...

"Thank you for your trouble, Felipe," she told the young man. "Do you want to have lunch here?" she offered.

He smiled broadly and nodded.

"Good. Go to the main room and take seat. I'll bring you a serving of ceviche in a minute."

His eyes lit up.

"Ha ha, I knew you'd like it!" she told him.

He smiled again and went to the curtain separating the kitchen from the rest of the tavern. But just as he walked past her, Victoria's eyes went to a shelf on her wall where she had momentarily put the small wooden crate with the beautiful vase inside; she laid her hand on Felipe's shoulder to stop him and get his attention. He turned to her.

"When you're back home, tell Don Diego 'thank you' for me. You'll remember?"

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Just 'thank you'," she said. "He'll know."

Felipe nodded and walked through the curtain, a bit puzzled. _Yes_ , he thought, Diego was definitely hiding something from him. But apparently not from Victoria.


	76. Ch 76 - The roof and the back door

The day after, in the middle of the morning, Diego decided he'd leave the hacienda at the very end of the morning to have lunch in the pueblo – "No Felipe, I won't need you for the _Guardian's_ issue, you can stay here and have your afternoon for yourself!" – when Silvio knocked on his door to tell him that someone was here to talk to him.

"Oh? all right, I'm coming to the sala then."

"Er... patrón," Silvio then said a bit embarrassed, "she isn't in the sala... she said she didn't want to come inside... Er... she is waiting outside, near the service entrance behind the kitchen's back door..."

_Ah?_

Diego looked at him. He didn't know at all who he was going to see or what he should be expecting, but he had no idea of why it couldn't take place _inside_ the hacienda.

"And who is that?" he asked the servant.

"Elvira," Silvio answered.

 _...?_ ... For a whole second, Diego was at a total loss.

"Elvira who?" he asked the servant.

"Octavio Duarte's daughter, Don Diego..."

"Oh..." Diego said, suddenly serious. "Oh, yes, _this_ Elvira..." he added, with even a hint of sadness. "But why didn't you let her in?"

Silvio shrugged. "She refused, Don Diego. Don't know why. I also told her I'd go tell Don Alejandro that she was here to see him, that she had something to ask, but she told me no, she wanted to talk to _you_..."

Ah. Diego was totally puzzled, but he followed Silvio anyway, and exited the hacienda through the kitchen's service door.

The first thing he noted when he saw the young girl's back was that she wasn't wearing black anymore. Octavio Duarte, the pueblo's carpenter, had died a few months earlier and his children and wife went through a hard time then, both emotionally and even a bit financially. But fortunately his wife already had a job of her own: she was a seamstress, and had been teaching and training her daughters too, passing on her knowledge and skills to them so that whatever happens in their adult lives, they could earn an income on their own.

A very good idea considering the unfortunate turn their lives recently took...

And according to the young girl's attire, the period of mourning was now over and life had to go on for the late carpenter's widow and orphans.

"Buenos días, Elvira," Diego greeted her.

She started and turned to him. He was surprised to discover how grown-up she now looked. He hadn't seen much of her family in months, except a few courtesy calls to her mother with his father to see how she was faring, or strictly business-related appointments for a new shirt or housecoat.

The past months probably had an effect on young Elvira, making her finish growing up faster than expected of course...

"Buenos días Don Diego," the young woman said.

He noted that she was glancing around, and seemed to avoid meeting his eyes.

"I... I almost didn't recognise you," he gently told her. "You've grown up into a real young lady. How old does this make you now? Sixteen... seventeen, something like that, right?"

"Er... no Don Diego, I'll be twenty-one in a few months," she corrected him.

 _Twenty-one!_ Oh dear, when had time flown by so fast? Where have these past years gone? She had been but a pigtailed teenager when he came back home from Spain...

Yes, time flies, his father was right on that, and he wasn't getting any younger either: it was time he had children, or he might never have any at all. He didn't really intend to be a latish father like his own father was with Leonor, even though he knew that Don Alejandro loved the little girl dearly, and that this late child of his was making him immensely happy. But Diego didn't want people to mistake him for his children's grandfather!

No, he wanted a child _now_ , not in fifteen years! Which of course made his mind wander to Victoria. To his visit to her tavern in a few hours. And to her bedroom...

He really shouldn't be thinking about _these things_ , he chastised himself. He focused his attention back on the girl in front of him. She was still looking rather uneasy, staring at the earthy ground at her feet.

"You... you wanted to see me...?" he prompted her, seeing that she wasn't spontaneously telling him what she had come to ask.

Elvira nibbled her lower lip and wrung her hands.

"Er... Don Diego... that's a bit..."

She went silent.

"Yes...?" he kindly encouraged her. "Please, talk freely," he softly told her with a gentle smile, thinking that shyness and uneasiness at addressing a caballero was what embarrassed her.

"Er... it's about the roof of the garrison's stables. You know that it had been damaged a few months ago, and at the time the alcade made a contract with Father for the repair..."

Ooops, Diego thought, of course he knew the roof had been damaged: _Zorro_ was precisely the one who had ruined part of it by destroying a supporting crossbeam to cover his escape...

He nodded. "Yes...?" he said, not knowing exactly why she came to their hacienda to tell them about this roof.

"Well, er... when Father... er... died, he had already started working on the garrison's roof but hadn't finished yet, and..."

She paused to collect herself.

"And due to the circumstances, well... the job has never been finished, of course."

Diego nodded again, still keeping silent.

"So we had to give back the deposit that had already been paid to Father for the repair, which is only normal since the job had been left unfinished. I agree. But now..."

She sighed and looked dejectedly at her feet.

"Now...?" Diego asked encouragingly.

Elvira had a bitter grimace. Then she sighed.

"Now the alcalde is demanding penalties for delayed completion. He argues that the repairs haven't been finished on due time, so he says Mother must pay penalty fees for each week late starting from the initially due date three months ago. But... it's not like Mother is going to finish the roof herself! And Father is dead, so this should cancel any contract, no? But the alcalde said that since Mother married him, it made her jointly liable with him and his obligations..."

"De Soto is charging you with late penalties?!" Diego exclaimed, appalled. "I can't believe he has sunk so low... Especially a man from his background," he added for himself.

"Yes, but we can't pay these!" Elvira exclaimed in a desperate voice. "It's already hard enough with only me and Mother working, and there are only so many orders a seamstress gets in such a small pueblo anyway... So if now we have to pay for Father's fees on top of not having his income anymore..."

She sighed again, then resumed talking:

"Mother even said that it finally would have been better if they hadn't gotten married, this way his debts couldn't be transferred on her." She paused again to let out a sigh. "But then I thought... Well, Mother didn't want to come to Don Alejandro's and ask for his intervention, and she didn't want me to come here either, but after all I thought that _you_ knew a few things about contracts and law and all this, Don Diego... Things which we are totally ignorant about... and then perhaps–"

"And you did well," he assured her. "So if I sum it up, the alcalde wants to charge your father's widow with penalties for delayed completion while there hadn't been completion at all, and never will. But in fact, here the non-completion is due to a case of force majeure, which may very well make the contract null and void, owing to the death of one of the contracting parties before completion of the task. And indeed, the money already paid as a deposit has been entirely returned."

He frowned.

"I'm sure he's not allowed to ask you for anything more than what he had already been entirely repaid, but it's de Soto we're talking about: the man is sometimes... difficult as far as seeing reason is concerned. But I'll try... Today before lunch I'll go to his office and ask him to perish this thought, and if he doesn't listen to me, then I'll write an article in the Guardian to alert people on this case, and point at his behaviour..."

"An article..." she said, rather disappointed. "Yes," she added, a bit dully though, "yes, well, thank you Don Diego..."

Clearly she had expected... well, she didn't know exactly what, but something else. But after all, she reasoned, it was Don Diego... what else could anyone expect from him than a mild protest and some paper pushing, really? No, the one who truly could have done something for them here would have been his father, but...

"And if it still doesn't work, I'll write a letter to our lawyer in San Diego: he'll tell me what our legal avenues are. And even, I'd write up to the governor in Monterey, don't worry: I won't let you down. I swear I'll do my best. I can't swear I'll manage to make the alcalde see reason, but I will try."

The girl didn't seem utterly optimistic or entirely convinced. In fact she was feeling utterly disheartened.

"Gracias Don Diego," she said nonetheless, lowering her eyes to the ground. But it sounded clearly half-hearted.

Just then, Leonor turned up round the corner, playing hoop-rolling once again. Apparently she didn't see the two adults, or if she did, she didn't pay them any attention: she had better things to do.

"Hmm... Elvira," Diego suddenly told her, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course Don Diego."

"Why did you want to wait here...? Silvio told me you didn't want to come in and to wait inside..."

He looked at her: she was uneasily nibbling at her lower lip, clearly embarrassed at the question.

"...and why the back door?" he added.

She didn't answer.

"Well, Mother doesn't know I've come here, and–"

"Oh, and yes, by the way, why didn't your mother want to ask for our help? I don't understand, surely she knows neither my father nor I would have dismissed her or sent her away..."

Elvira threw a brief sidelong look toward Leonor and then she set her gaze back on Diego. Or rather, on his shoes and knees.

Diego looked at her, puzzled. Was she embarrassed by his sister's presence? Was there some embarrassing matter behind her reluctance...?

But then again Elvira glanced rather meaningfully at the little girl who was still rolling her hoop, unaware of the attention newly paid to her presence, and suddenly it dawned on Diego: _oh, dear! not the Duartes too!_

Elvira took a small step back, as though she was slowly starting to take her leave, but Diego stopped her by gently laying a hand on her forearm.

From a few feet away, Leonor raised her gaze and set it on them, surprised by her big brother's sudden move. And why was he taking the lady's arm?


	77. Ch 77 - Stitching up a good name

Diego gently held back the seamstress's daughter when she was about to leave.

"Elvira," he told her, "it– I can't believe that just because–" he paused to take a deep breath in. "Listen, whatever happened in my father's past," he said, lowering his voice because he didn't want Leonor to hear them even though the child probably wouldn't guess she was part of the matter they were discussing, "it has nothing to do with your mother's current... predicament. And surely you know that he is a caring and involved man, he'd be sorry to hear about what the alcalde demands from her. She may judge him, but why– For God's sake, what's the point of shunning him, _us_ , like that? Your mother can't fight de Soto alone, she has to ask for help. Even from people she... er... may not totally approve of on totally unrelated matters."

This time Elvira was downright staring at her feet. She sighed.

"You were right to come here for help," Diego went on her in a far gentler voice, "whatever you may think of us, of our family," he added with a bit more bitterness. "I'll do what I can to make the alcalde change his mind, and if it doesn't work–"

"Don't tell your father!" she suddenly cut in. "I mean... Mother doesn't know I've come here, and she doesn't want us to set foot in his house."

Diego pinched his lips together.

"Well, you didn't, so all is well that ends well!" he then retorted, a bit offended.

She lowered her eyes to the ground once again.

"I'm sorry Don Diego, I didn't mean to... er... I know it is very kind of you to be willing to try, and..."

Seeing her goodwill, Diego mellowed again.

"You know what, Elvira?" he suddenly said as though an idea had just struck him, "I think you should talk about de Soto's demand around you this morning. Spread the news, somehow. That way it might reach Zorro's ears, who knows? So if my attempts fail and hit a brick wall, then perhaps... you know..."

"Perhaps he'd take action, that's what you mean?"

Diego nodded.

"Hmm..." she said, "I'm not sure Mother would be too happy that everyone knows about our... er... difficulties, but..."

Diego understood what Elvira wasn't saying: Señora Duarte was proud, she didn't want people to either pity her or know she had debts.

"But you're probably right, Don Diego. If Zorro knew, he'd certainly help," she added with some glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Diego nodded. But he also noted that the young girl was carefully not looking toward Leonor, who was still blissfully unaware of what the revelation of her existence had prompted in her father's life. She had put her hoop and stick down, and was presently busy disentangling the ribbons and furbelows of her organdie dress from a nearby rosemary bush.

It reminded Diego of something his father and Doña Araceli had briefly discussed in his presence.

"You know what, Elvira? I'm glad you've come here today because in fact my sister needs two new dresses," he told the young girl totally out of the blue.

Elvira's eyebrows raised almost up to her hairline because according to the local grapevine and as far as people had seen of it, the child's wardrobe was already well stocked, and with smart stylish clothes for such a young age. Why would Don Diego think she needed even more of these? Rich people really didn't live in the harsh real world, she reflected inwardly.

"Well, I'll tell my mother you want to place an order, she'll look at her availabilities..." Elvira said, not promising anything: the availability was just a pretext, they weren't exactly swamped with work, but she knew that her mother would now have some reluctance to work for Don Alejandro.

"Oh, but I'm not necessarily thinking about your mother only, if she can't: couldn't _you_ do the job?"

" _Me_ , Don Diego? But..." she said, glancing at the very frilly and fancy dress the little girl was currently wearing, "I'm not sure I'd be able to... to make anything so... so refined... and complicated... and anyway Mother might not–"

"Oh but I'm not asking for anything complicated!" Diego cut in. "Quite the contrary in fact: the other day, Leonor's mother regretted that her daughter didn't have some... er... _simpler_ clothes, you know: more ordinary and resistant fabric, more ordinary colours too, and a very simple pattern. Something she could wear to play and not be hindered... and something that wouldn't get caught in the bushes!" he added with a smile.

"Uh?" Elvira asked, still rather surprised by the request. "Er... perhaps, but..."

She was still not sure her mother would approve of her working for the de la Vegas.

"Leonor!" Diego called his sister. "Come here, please."

The child was visibly slightly annoyed by the interruption, but she nonetheless put her toy down and politely walked to her big brother and the young señora he was talking with.

"Leonor, cariño, this is Señorita Duarte. She and her mother are seamstresses."

Leonor nodded shyly.

"Er... buenos días Señorita," Elvira told her in a gentle though slightly tense tone of voice.

"Buenos días Señora," the child answered in kind.

Elvira started a bit, and then had a small smile: it was not every day that someone called her anything else than 'Elvira', let alone 'Señora'.

But Leonor still didn't understand why Diego had asked her to come or had wanted to introduce the young lady to her. Was she his sweetheart? His betrothed? That would explain–

"Leonor, what would you say about having a new dress?"

Well, apparently she wouldn't say anything about it, because she didn't look overenthusiastic at the thought.

"A new dress? I know I've snagged this one a little bit," she said grabbing her skirt and smoothing the fabric over a pulled thread, "but Concepcion can still sew another bow or another ribbon over the hole to hide it!"

Leonor was visibly fearing that Diego would scold her for having damaged her dress a bit when it got caught in the bushes or when she played on the ground on all fours, crawling after a lizard.

"No, I meant another kind of dress," Diego explained, "a very different one. A dress you could wear for climbing trees, or run, or even ride without being told off because you creased it or wore it thin. A dress which would look a bit like Elvira's here..." he said, pointing at the young woman's perfectly fitting brown attire.

Leonor's eyes lit up at the idea of running carefreely around and climbing trees.

"Really?" the child asked the woman. "You could make a dress just like yours?"

"Well, as a matter of fact Señorita, I made this dress myself," Elvira answered.

Leonor turned to her elder brother.

"And Papá would agree, Diego?"

"I'm sure he would, I can't see any reason he wouldn't."

But Elvira discreetly cleared her throat, and Diego looked at her.

"I haven't said we could..." she told him a bit uneasily. "I must tell Mother about this first, and we already have many other things to..."

Her voice died in her obvious lie, but she didn't want to elaborate. Especially in the presence of the little girl, who suddenly looked rather disappointed.

"I can't promise you anything Señorita," Elvira told Leonor, "but we'll see if that's possible..." she mumbled.

"I'm sure it will," Diego said assertively. "We'll stop by sometime for the details like taking the measurements, choosing the fabric and so one."

Elvira was rather disconcerted: apparently Don Diego had just decided on his own and without either her mother's agreement or her own that they would accept the order. But, truth be told and despite the lie she had just told him about already having many other orders, she wasn't sure her mother would step over her principles and accept work from the de la Vegas. And make clothes for the _corpus delicti_.

Well, rather _fructus_ delicti, she thought. And a nice and polite fruit it was, Elvira reflected. She also knew that her mother was a good woman deep down, she wouldn't resent innocent children for the sin of their parents, so Elvira thought that she wouldn't turn down either Don Diego or the young señorita.

"Alright. Leonor, you can say good bye," Diego told his sister, "and then go back to whatever you were doing."

She nodded. "Good bye Señora," she said before she trotted back to her hoop.

When his eyes followed the little girl to a nearby camellia Diego spotted Felipe arrive round the corner of the house. He saw him stop when he noticed that Diego had company, and then... did Felipe... well, _yes_ : a slightly rosy hue tinged his face as he looked at who the visitor was and he stayed where he was, watching them.

Diego turned his attention back to the young girl in front of him:

"And for the other matter, don't worry Elvira: I will write a letter to my father's lawyer this afternoon, and he'll help us find a way to make our alcalde see reason. And I'll also write an article in the newspaper to denounce his doings. Tell your mother not to worry too much about these penalties, and spread the word around you no later than this morning."

"Si Don Diego," she answered, sounding rather unconvinced. "Er... gracias."

"De nada. Have a good day, Elvira."

"A good day to you too Don Diego," she replied despondently.

"I must go back inside," Diego then said, "but Felipe here," he gestured toward the young man, "will see you to the gate."

And just after a hesitant Felipe had joined them at the man's sign to come closer, Diego took his leave and went back inside the hacienda before Elvira had time to make him change his mind about his sister's dress.

She was nonplussed. She had come here with some foolish hope that the name of the de la Vegas, although recently tarnished by the paterfamilias himself, would carry some weight when Don Diego would go to de Soto and demand that he'd cancel this extortion about penalties for delayed completion. But she had forgotten that although Don Diego was kind and well-meaning, admittedly, and a caballero, and a de la Vega, he was also _Don Diego_ : that is to say, not exactly the man for such a situation, after all. And his mild promise of an indignant letter soon reminded her that he was not the right man for the job, as far as taking action with quick effective results was needed.

Elvira knew that in this matter, his father would certainly have been more efficient; in fact he would probably already be currently galloping to the alcade's office, but as of now Don Alejandro...

Elvira glanced at the hacienda, almost ready to overcome her own reluctance... but _no:_ Mamá would disapprove of seeking help from this man, now.

So she turned on her heels and followed Don Diego's deaf-mute. On the way she caught sight of Señorita Leonor hopping and bouncing to try and catch a pear on a tree. She smiled: the child seemed to be a nice little girl who didn't ask for anything that happened. Elvira walked to her, raised an arm and plucked the pear from the branch for her.

"Oh, thank you Señora!" Leonor shouted happily. "Look, Felipe!" she added, showing him the pear, "I'll give you half of it!" she promised joyfully. "If... if you want to share it with me, of course..." she then mumbled, blushing.

Elvira saw the deaf-mute servant smile and gently ruffle the girl's black unruly hair while the child's face took a scarlet hue, but then he turned to face her and, looking a bit unsure and not exactly straight in her eyes, he made a vague gesture to the gate and resumed walking; so she followed suit and then left, deep in thought. She didn't even see the young man wave good bye and didn't respond, still deeply thinking about her family's current problem and the only potentially efficient thing Don Diego suggested about this all: making so that Zorro hears of it.


	78. Ch 78 - Diego's attempt and Zorro's success

"...and I have respected their mourning period, and the grief they were stricken with. But now things have to take back their course and to go on. And the garrison stables still have only half a roof! Until now it was summer, a very dry period, but autumn will soon begin, and then winter will come, and our horses need a shelter worthy of the name! It's not Señora Duarte's fault, it's not her husband's either, it's no one's fault, but we need to have our roof finished!"

De Soto paused, and Diego breathed in deeply to stay calm and collected: he should have known the man wouldn't want to see reason!

"In fact," de Soto went on, "in fact no: it _is_ someone's fault: _Zorro's!_ If he hadn't played pick-up-sticks with the timber work of someone else's property just for show, our horses wouldn't be without a roof over their head, and we wouldn't be in this situation..."

 _Ow..._ Diego brushed away some unpleasant aftertaste of guilt. _Well... yes... perhaps..._ Perhaps de Soto was not totally wrong on that. There might have been some part of showing off in what he did back then.

"Anyway," he told de Soto, "and whatever each one's responsibility is, the fact is that Señora Duarte is not going to climb on this roof to finish it herself! She's a seamstress, not a carpenter! And her oldest son had not finished his training with his father before he died, he can't do the job yet. Not on his own, he's too young for that, and she was right to forbid him to. So this roof won't finish itself on its own just because you charge the Duartes! In the end you'll have to call upon a carpenter from another pueblo anyway. And in fact, why didn't you do this months ago?"

"But I did exactly this! I didn't wait for your insight to do so, believe it or not! Only..."

"Only...?" Diego asked.

"Well, believe it or not, all the carpenters of the nearest pueblos had their order books full until the end of the year! They all have other contracts and couldn't come to Los Angeles even for two or three weeks... I would have never thought finding an available workman in the building trade was so difficult!"

"Hum... _that_ , or perhaps they just have heard of how tradesmen who signed a contract with the alcade of Los Angeles may be treated here..." Diego retorted. "That might very well be enough to deter their willingness, Ignacio."

De Soto had an annoyed "humph", then he swept Diego's argument away with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

"Listen Diego, I'm very sad for Señora Duarte and my heart goes to her, but a contract is a contract."

"And how is she supposed to repay, anyway? With her husband's death, her family went from middle class to living in straitened circumstances. Her income now rests only on her work as a seamstress, and on the work she gets."

"That's very unfortunate, I agree, but there is nothing I can do to force the Los Angelinos to buy new clothes every six months! Fashion is a concern for idle rich people like yourself, Diego, but I assure you that most people have many other priorit–"

"Of course Ignacio, of course," Diego retorted, rather annoyed at de Soto. "But... she's not going to give the money she doesn't have anyway. So... for instance you could award her a contract for your soldiers' uniforms for the two years to come... Something like twent–" Diego paused and chose to lower his suggestion, knowing de Soto too well, " _ten_ percent discount when they bring her their uniforms for mending, instead of doing it themselves... that way the mending would be better done, and would be more resistant in the end..."

De Soto seemed to think about it. "Humph... they wouldn't need so much mending if Zorro didn't slash his Z in their jackets or didn't cut their suspenders, the damn scoundrel... No wonder they prefer mending these themselves, or their whole pay would be spent at the seamstress's."

 _Ow_ again. Diego felt rather bad: he hadn't thought about that; the poor soldier's pay wasn't much, and if he went on ruining their clothes... A memory of Magdalena Turon reproaching him for tearing her husband's shirt and thus uselessly giving her more work to do came back to his mind. Hum... well... yes. He'd try to be more respectful in the future with people's clothes. As well as with roofs.

"That's an idea Diego, but anyway, she'll have to pay what penalties she owes to the pueblo for the delay: we will have to find a temporary solution for the roof before we can have it repaired, and it is going to have a cost, unfortunately."

 _Grrrr..._ Diego held back an urge to take de Soto by his collar, and took a deep breath in to keep his temper in check.

"You will have to answer for that in the afterlife, Ignacio!" he grumbled before he stormed out of the alcalde's office.

Alright. He had known it from the beginning, but it irritated him all the same: Zorro would have to take action to twist de Soto's hand.

And Diego became even more irritated at him when he realised that this intervention of the masked fox would require a change of his day's schedule, which would ruin his earlier plans for siesta time...

And he suddenly was twice as much annoyed at Ignacio de Soto.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was almost taping her foot on the floor with anticipation. She glanced at the clock: only five minutes had passed since she closed for siesta. She sighed at herself: she was being ridiculous; after all, Don Diego hadn't promised her anything about today, he didn't _have_ to come to her every day!

Yet he didn't say he wouldn't come either, so part of her was still more or less waiting for him to arrive.

After ten minutes he still wasn't there. Not that they had agreed on a precise time for their meetings, though, but... Well, in fact they didn't even agree they'd meet every day, or every other day, or... Humph, truth be told, they didn't agree on _any_ frequency for their... _attempts._ At all.

Perhaps they should have? That way things would have been clear, and she wouldn't be standing there in the middle of her kitchen waiting for possibly nothing, instead of quietly lying in bed for a well-deserved rest.

But on the other hand... she finally wasn't sure she wanted it to be scheduled like some business appointment – something like _Tuesdays-Thursdays-Saturdays from two to three o'clock, plus every other Monday_ – even though it would make her personal planning simpler. Somehow she found it would lack... _grace_.

For lack of anything better to do, she started peeling the vegetables for dinner. Five more minutes, and Don Diego was still not here.

Perhaps he wasn't feeling up to it today? She supposed he needed to want her at least a little bit to manage, and maybe these things come and go depending on the moment. She remembered Zorro telling her that men didn't have any control on this phenomenon, and that it was totally independent from their own will. So yes, she couldn't ask too much from Don Diego, he was already kind enough to be willing to try. And she didn't want to wear him out: he very possibly needed time to rest.

 _Or_ , an insidious little voice was murmuring inside her mind, perhaps he wasn't feeling up to it _with her_ , but didn't have the same difficulties with another woman... After all, he was often gone for hours without anyone knowing where he was, not even his father! Sometimes in the middle of the day, but also some other times... _at night!_

So perhaps he currently was... er... busy granting another woman his favours...? Something strangely churned in her stomach at this thought. Probably some misplaced self-pride, she decided. But after all, she reasoned, it was not as though she had him sign an exclusivity clause, or even as though he orally swore anything about that. It was not like they were a couple or anything remotely close to that! In fact she vaguely remembered she told him about both of them keeping their respective freedom: she had thought about herself and Zorro then, and she also hadn't wanted to scare him away by having him think she'd hinder his own secret love life... Yes, she had been totally indifferent to the thought that he could want to woo another woman then, as long as he gave her the child she wanted, so why did the thought of Don Diego in some other woman's bed than hers now make her a bit uneasy? _Pfff,_ she reflected, she really had to learn to be less selfish!

Yet, she was a bit surprised that he didn't come to the tavern earlier in the morning, even if it was to only say hello. He had been in the pueblo not long before midday, she knew it even though she didn't see him: she heard Sergeant Mendoza say that Don Diego had come to see the alcalde about the Duartes' fees problem. Thinking about these penalties de Soto dared demand from the carpenter's widow, Victoria's blood boiled again with indignation: how could he? It had been the main topic at lunchtime in her tavern: she didn't know who brought the word first in there, but de Soto's abuse on a mourning respected family had been much commented and blamed by the customers.

Well, at least Don Diego had tried something, even mildly so, even though it remained only words, even though it didn't have any effect on the alcalde. A few years earlier, when he came back from Spain, he would have only lamented that it was unfortunate and unfair, and then he would have gone back home to bury his nose in his dear books without even daring tell de Soto anything...

Yes, she supposed there had been some improvement in Don Diego's involvement with time... The man had always been caring, she now knew that, but he was very far from being daring enough, as though he was always fearing something and thinking it was not his role to take action, but someone else's.

All right. Almost twenty-past-two and he still wasn't here. _Don't think of him under anyone else's bedsheets! After all, he has the right to–_

"ZORRO!" she heard someone – was it Mendoza? – shout outside.

It seemed to be coming from the plaza.

At the name of her beloved, all thoughts of her newfound lover left her mind, and she rushed to the porch of her tavern. Most of the Los Angelinos living around the plaza were torn from their slumber by the commotion outside and, just like Victoria did, came to their doorsteps or windows to see what it was about.

"Sorry Señor Alcalde," Zorro was saying from the roof of his office, "but you should have agreed to drop the charges against Señora Duarte when I politely asked you to. Now..."

Victoria looked at what Zorro was holding at arm's length and her eyes widened with surprise: the tattered blue and red rags hanging from his hand appeared to be... or rather appeared to _have been_ the alcalde's dress uniform. But now the beautiful jacket was in shreds, good to nothing else but wipe the floor or draughtproof windows, the gilded braids were all cut and already fraying, his feathered bicorn hat was sliced in two, and his white breeches were nothing but a heap of torn ribbons no wider than one or two inches.

Down on the plaza, de Soto was standing in front of his office, sabre in hand pointed high at Zorro, but holding his shirt closed over his chest with one hand – oh, yes: the buttonholes were all torn and there wasn't any button left on the other side – while his everyday breeches were adorned with a magnificent Z over each thigh, as well as... over his rear back!

"Soldiers!" the alcalde shouted, "Take aim! Fire!"

But all the muskets made a sound of damp squib when they tried to shoot at Zorro and he laughed.

"Oh, yes, I forgot: your gunpowder is a bit wet. As well as the one still stocked in the barrels. Perhaps you should try to make it dry in the sunshine for a few hours..."

"Oh, you..." de Soto growled.

"And perhaps you should think about slipping something decent on too," Zorro added, "before staying outside on the plaza for all Los Angeles to see!"

Victoria giggled: Zorro's cheek was rather daring, but he was right. Not only de Soto was looking tatty and scruffy in his torn shirt, but the large Z at the back of his breeches was letting a part of his... ahem... _fundament_ show through the gaps in the white material.

"You damn rascal, just wait until I put the noose around your neck!" the alcalde shouted. "This was the only dress uniform I had!"

"Oh, this is really too bad, then!" Zorro retorted. "Isn't the governor planning to stop by in Los Angeles in two weeks, on his way to Ciudad de México? Hmm, I don't think he'll be too glad to see that you are the only alcalde of the pueblos on his way who would dare greet him in ordinary uniform, or in everyday clothes..."

"Oh... you... you..." de Soto almost choked with indignation. "But how am I supposed to greet him in full regalia when my dress uniform is now ruined beyond repair! He's going to... to think I'm deliberately insulting him! He might even throw me in jail for a few days just for the offense!"

"Ah, I sympathise Señor Alcalde," Zorro retorted. "It must feel like... I don't know... as though someone demanded that you make so that you get a job done, when the deal had been made with someone else, someone who was the only one who could do this job, but someone who's not here anymore to finish it... I supposed that in addition of your anger at me for ruining your uniform, you're feeling the unfairness of the impending punishment you may be about to meet for not wearing it in two weeks..."

On her doorstep, Señor Duarte was looking at the alcalde's obvious sudden worry. She had her arms folded over her chest, her face unreadable, and her eldest daughter Elvira was standing right beside her, looking rather pleased with what was happening.

"Soldiers! Climb on this roof and catch him!" de Soto commanded.

A group of lancers including Sergeant Mendoza rushed to a wooden pillar supporting the roof; but as soon as they tried to climb they slid down it.

"Oil!" Mendoza shouted, "he coated it with _oil_ , mi Alcalde!"

"Oh! Yes," Zorro said, pointing at a small wooden cask of oil at his feet, "you make me think..."

And with these words, he threw a coin at Victoria who caught it before it landed on the ground.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask for your permission before helping myself in your storeroom, Señorita, but at least that way no one can accuse you of complicity or collusion... But of course here is the payment for your oil: contrary to what our alcalde likes to pretend, I'm not a thief. And talking about that..."

He turned back to de Soto and threw a small purse at him.

"For your uniform, Señor Alcalde. Fortunately for you we have a very skilled seamstress in the pueblo," Zorro went on, "so perhaps if you can find some middle ground with her and if you're ready to pay a fair price for her trouble, you may have a brand new uniform for the Governor's visit in a fortnight."

He whistled to call his horse.

"Well, that's only a suggestion..." he added.

"Soldiers! After him!" de Soto shouted, seeing that he was about to flee.

Still standing on the alcalde's roof, Zorro looked at Victoria, seemed to hesitate for a whole second, and then bowed deeply toward her.

She too hesitated, nodded sharply and smiled almost shyly at him.

The moment was interrupted by a noisy ruckus coming from the stables. Whinnies and stomping sounds, as well as other sorts of noises. Then Victoria saw two horses trot round the corner, but they soon stopped there, held back by something.

"Mi Alcade!" Corporal Sepulveda shouted, "all the horses... their bridles have been tied together! And tied to the posts too!"

"Then untie them or cut the bridles loose!" de Soto told him harshly. "Quick!"

Victoria spotted Felipe leant against a wall not far from there, smiling at the scene around him. Of course he couldn't have heard either the commotion from the stables or the corporal's words, but he could see everything as well as everyone – even better in fact, since he was standing close to the stables – and he couldn't miss the funny side of seeing the alcalde half-naked in the middle of the plaza, his soldiers failing at climbing an oily pole and the poor horses all tangled together.

If Felipe was here, then perhaps Don Diego was not very far... Victoria searched the small crowd but he was nowhere to be seen. She'd ask Felipe about him, then.

Or not. She wasn't his nanny or his duenna, after all.

Then Felipe turned to the seamstress's doorstep with another kind of smile – less amused, more dreamy – and Victoria turned her attention back to the alcalde's roof.

But, making the most of his flight being covered by the fact that all the garrison's horses were hindered back in a tangle, Zorro had disappeared.


	79. Ch 79 - Ite missa est

The day after was Sunday, and Victoria finally managed to catch a glimpse of Don Diego at Mass. She hadn't seen him since the previous Thursday afternoon, and seeing his tall figure right beside his father's when they arrived made her blush a little bit: what would Don Alejandro think if he knew precisely what she had been doing with his son earlier in the week?

On his other side, little señorita Leonor was holding her father's hand, looking a tad intimidated in her lovely muslin-and-lace white dress. Señora Ocaña went to her and told her a few words with a kind smile on her lips, to which Leonor nodded shyly and raised her gaze to her father.

Victoria noticed Don Alejandro's unusual choice of colour for his small neck bow: it was a light blue satin ribbon, although his suit was brown. And come to think of that, it was not unlike the ribbon he had been wearing coiled around his wrist a few days earlier...

Señora Ocaña politely greeted Don Alejandro and he bowed over her hand, then she turned to Don Diego who mirrored his father's gesture.

Victoria's eyes crossed Diego's, and their stares caught and held for a whole second. Then the padre walked up the aisle and all the parishioners turned their attention to the Holy Mass.

All but a little girl who repeatedly glanced and gazed at a young deaf-mute man a few seats away from her, as well as the middle aged woman in charge of her who, from her place right beside her on the same pew, was trying to keep the child focused on the service.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

After the _ite missa est_ and the padre's benediction, the flock left the pews and most parishioners stopped at the stoup to dip the tip of their fingers in the water and cross themselves again. Diego found himself doing this right as the same time as someone else and their fingers brushed in the stoup. He looked at who it was and when he recognised Victoria, his heart skipped a beat and a surge of something ran up his arm and then spread in his whole being, making him feel a sudden urge to kneel down at her feet and declare his undying adoration for her, to her and in front of the whole of Los Angeles.

He fought back this foolish idea and sent a very awkward sheepish smile her way, finally remembering to make the sign of the cross. _Sorry my Lord for letting myself be distracted in Your Holy House_. _Please bless me and forgive my straying and wandering thoughts_.

Against his will, he felt his cheeks get warmer, and Victoria's turned slightly rosy, as well as her forehead. His throat constricted a bit, too.

"Oh, buenos días Victoria, my dear!" Don Alejandro greeted her joyfully, thankfully breaking the awkward silence between the two. A silence which the older man had been totally unaware of.

For half a second, Victoria froze and stared at him with a tiny bit of irrational fear. _What –?_ But she soon reasoned that there was no way he'd know anything, so she calmed down and tried to sound as normal as ever when she politely replied.

"Er... buenos días Don Alejandro, Don Diego..."

But her eyes didn't exactly look straight at theirs, somehow. She spotted the child right beside Don Alejandro, as well the young deaf-mute servant just behind them.

"Señorita Leonor, Felipe, buenos días to you too!" she added, like she wanted to deflect attention from herself – or from Don Diego!

Leonor answered politely and Felipe waved with a smile.

Victoria suddenly regretted her choice of hair accessory for the day and became very self-conscious of it: on the previous Thursday, Don Diego had forgotten his black neckbow on the wooden floor of her bedroom when he got dressed before leaving, and she had picked it up with the purest intention of giving it back to him next time she sees him. But he didn't come either on Friday or Saturday, not even just to say hello! So on an impulse, on this Sunday morning she chose to tie her hair back with it. On an impulse, yes, and perhaps guided by some subconscious cheek too: maybe a small part of her wanted to show off, wanted to sport it like medieval knights adorned their armour with the silky scarf they just earned from a fair lady, or like an officer proudly flashed the new stripe he just gained.

But now she realised not only how vain it seemed, but also that a rather wide black ribbon was an unusual choice of hair accessory unless you were in mourning, and she suddenly didn't want Don Diego to notice what she had done with his piece of clothing. Or his father to ask about it.

But fortunately Don Alejandro was already greeting another of his acquaintances, and Leonor went back to Concepcion who took her hand and led her outside on the plaza when Victoria slowly walked out of the church with the rest of the parishioners. Don Diego was still beside her, Felipe in tow.

"Er..." she started to say, "will you... are you going to... to _come to the tavern_ tomorrow, Don Diego?" she asked, doing her best to sound absolutely neutral and conversational.

He didn't look straight at her but she saw him drum his fingers in the air at her question.

"Er... yes... yes, if I can... that is, if nothing else crops up..." he answered, remaining rather vague.

"Like two days ago? When your father asked you to come with him and your sister to lunch at the Ocañas?" she asked.

"Uh? Oh, er... yes."

She kept silent for a whole second, but then she couldn't help but say:

"And like yesterday...?"

 _Oh no...!_ She kicked herself inwardly. _I'm sounding so pathetic here! He'll find me clingy. And demanding. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, I'm going to make him run away!_

"Er... yesterday?" he repeated her question. "Well, er... I intended to come but... at the last minute I had to tend to something unexpected... but I really regret I couldn't come, and..."

She didn't pay attention to the rest of his excuse. She couldn't help but wonder whether the 'something else' he had tended to was a woman of the vicinity. She scanned the crowd around them, wondering which of the ladies around had the favours of Diego de la Vega.

Señora Gomez, a comely widow barely older than he was? Señorita Delgado, another spinster like herself? Doña Maria, another early widow? Señorita Estévez, a young girl who was a bit of a bluestocking with whom he probably had some shared interests? Young Susana Macías, who had been in her late teenage and drooling over Don Diego when he came back from Spain years ago? Victoria had to admit that Susana had grown up into an attractive young woman with time...

_Who...?_

She turned back her attention to Don Diego. Young Elvira Duarte had come to him and was telling him:

"Don Diego, I wanted to... er..."

She was sounding a little bit hesitant. Was it because of Victoria's presence a few feet away from them?

"I wanted to thank you for your suggestion of yesterday..." Elvira said. "It was a sound advice, and it proved to be effective. At least it seems so."

He silently nodded, discreetly glancing at Elvira's mother not far from them but out of earshot.

"I hope it will be, Elvira," he answered. "And how is your mother faring now? Did the alcalde...?"

"Not yet, but I have good hopes that he will now be in a better frame of mind, thanks to Zorro" she told him.

Diego nodded again.

"Alright. Er... well, have a nice day Don Diego," Elvira said.

"You too Elvira," he answered.

And with that, the girl left and went back to her mother and siblings.

 _Alright,_ Victoria thought. There was some subtext between those two which she didn't completely get.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

From his observation post a dozen feet behind Diego, Felipe looked at the curious interaction between him and Victoria. And he thought that something, he didn't know what, didn't ring quite normal. Something, he didn't know what, was bugging him. Something, he didn't know why, felt unusual in their idle after-Mass chat.

Yes, there was definitely something he didn't know there. Something he didn't know but which probably had to do with the flowers and the note Diego sent her a few days before. Something which also had to do with the fact that Zorro hesitated a slight second before bowing to Victoria from the top of de Soto's roof the day before.

Yes, something was bugging Felipe's mind. He'd find what it was: he was the best spy around, after all! Even Diego wouldn't suspect...

And then a glimmer lit in his mind as he suddenly knew what the something bothering him in Diego and Victoria's interaction was: Diego wasn't looking her right in her eyes, today.

Diego _always_ looked Victoria right in her eyes. Well, he usually did. In fact he was often looking at her even when she wasn't looking, and when he was talking with her, he generally didn't averted his eyes, even just a little bit. Except when there was something else of interest to be seen at the moment.

Or except today.

Yes, something had happened between those two to make them act so... _weird_ to each other. Did they have an argument earlier in the week? Then Diego's flowers had been a sign of goodwill or an apology rather than an attempt of courtship. And this would also explain their current attitude toward each other too...

But just then Elvira Duarte approached Diego and all thoughts of his friends' complicated sentimental life evaded Felipe's suddenly transfixed mind.


	80. Ch 80 - Caution: wet paint

On Monday, Victoria wasn't expecting seeing much of Don Diego: he had said he thought he would come _if he could_ , but phrased like that it didn't commit him to anything, she realised.

She had put his necktie in her apron's pocket just in case he turns up for a drink or a meal in the next couple of days but she didn't know if she could count on him honouring her bedroom with his presence today.

Come to think of that, Zorro hadn't come to see her either since the night he hastily fled from there: really, what on earth was wrong with these men?

What was wrong with _her?_ Was she that much off-putting? That much unattractive? Or worse... did she deter them by being too eager?

Yet she didn't think she had been too eager with Don Diego... and he hadn't seemed to dislike her behaviour last time, if the faint sounds he made in response to her tentative ministrations were anything to go by.

She felt her face get warm with a small remain of embarrassment at this memory – _oh, no,_ she hated blushing! – but strangely enough she also felt something fuzzy fizzle up in the pit of her stomach, and it wasn't downright unpleasant.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

When siesta time came Victoria locked her front door and started climbing the stairs to go to her bedroom and get some rest like almost everyone else in the pueblo. That's why she was startled when she heard a knock on the back door, immediately followed by the sound of it being opened and then closed again. From mid-stairs she turned around and went down to the kitchen.

"Buenos días Victoria."

Don Diego was standing there beside the table and he had a soft and slightly bashful little smile on his lips. Even more than his presence itself, this very smile made something strangely wriggle and tickle deep inside Victoria's chest: it looked so... _endearing!_

_Enough with this distraction!_ she decided.

"Buenos días Don Diego," she replied.

_Oh no!_ Not again this awkwardness between them! Was it going to become a habit? An inevitable prelude to the joining of their flesh?

Then she noticed that he was carrying a thin rectangular large parcel under his arm.

"Oh, yes," Diego said when he saw her staring at it, "here..." he added, handing it to her.

_For me?_ she gestured as silently as Felipe.

He nodded.

"I hope I didn't betray your expectations..." he added.

_What?_ What expectations was he talking about? Curious, she tore the brown paper wrapping whatever the rectangular thing was.

_Oh!_

A painting. A still life. A bunch of flowers. But not just any bunch of flowers: the one he sent her a few days earlier, with a large sunflower, poppies, baby's breath, daisies, lilies and all, in a terracotta jug put on a dressing table in front of a mirror which faintly reflected the image of the bouquet in the background.

"It's... it's..." she stammered, "you remembered!" she then exclaimed clearly delighted. "This is so beautiful! You'd swear they are real... so colourful... so joyful..."

She raised a finger at it as though she wanted to touch it to make sure it was only a painting when Don Diego stopped her with a warning:

"Careful! It's not completely dry yet, I only finished it yesterday afternoon..."

She turned to him.

"Oil painting can take weeks to fully dry beneath the surface," he told her. "I'll varnish it later..."

"I didn't think you'd really... And so fast!" She fully turned to him and smiled brightly. "Gracias Don Diego. Muchas gracias. It's wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it, Victoria."

She took a step back to take a better look at the painting, and after two seconds of silence she suddenly told him:

"Oh, by the way... I didn't thank you for your gift; it's really beautiful, I had rarely seen anything so... so... I mean... I mean the vase is absolutely gorgeous Don Diego, but that's really too much for me..."

"It's certainly not. _Too much,_ I mean. In fact I found it was perfect for you, I should have given it to you years ago."

"Oh but, I'm just... it's not... I'm not a lady Don Diego, and it's so refined... Too refined for a mere tavern."

"Nonsense, it's perfect for you, and you're perfect for it. In fact you two were made for each other. This vase will be far better suited to the bedroom of a fine lady like yourself than to my bedroom's closet where it had been gathering dust on the shelf for years until last week!"

"Did you bring it back from Spain?"

"Oh, no, it's even older than that."

"Older?"

Don Diego had a nice soft smile.

"It was my mother's," he told her a bit dreamily.

This simple sentence strangely tugged at something in Victoria's mind, but she only blinked as Don Diego went on:

"She had been presented with it by her sister when she got betrothed, according to what Father told me. And indeed, as far as I can remember I have always known it to be around when I was a child."

Then he made a face when he added: "I even almost broke it once. I was seven or eight and I was practising fencing with a wooden stick in the middle of the sala, and of course the stick hit the vase... I can only let you imagine the earful my mother gave me!"

He smiled fondly and wistfully at the memory of his mother and Victoria suddenly realised how important a part of his past and of his personal history this vase was. And to think that he gave it to her!

"Oh Don Diego, I... I can't..." She paused. "It's your mother's vase, it's too valuable in your eyes. And I'm only... Would your father agree? He'd certainly not be too happy that I now get it, and that you parted with it. He–"

"Well, firstly, the vase is mine, not his. I inherited in when... well, when she died, and I'm free to do whatever I want with it. And secondly, he'd be glad that it got again to grace the bedside of a fine lady like she was, and like you are."

She smiled and blushed at the compliment all at the same time.

"Oh, and thirdly: in fact what I just said is not entirely true, come to think of that; the vase is not _mine_ anymore, it's now yours."

"Gracias Don Diego, muchas gracias. But still, your father... I mean, it's a family heirloom of some sort, after all... It should remain in your family."

"And it will," Diego answered. "After all, it will pass on our child eventually," he said with a smile, "at least if it's not broken by a clumsy toddler or a restless careless kid in the meantime," he added with a wink.

She had a soft smile.

"And in a way, you'll soon be part of the family too!" he said to completely convince her. "In fact, perhaps you already are..." he added with a bit of hopeful shyness in his voice and a furtive glance at her belly.

He lowered his gaze to the ground and nibbled at his lower lip, but couldn't help a little smile which Victoria mirrored.

"Alright Don Diego," she replied, "so... er... thank you for the vase. It's a wonderful gift."

"Victoria... About what I just said..."

"Yes?"

"You know that whatever... er... you know that you are _already_ like part of the family, right? I mean, to my father and to me... you've already been almost like family for years, you know that, don't you? Whatever... happens... or not," he added with a very small voice.

Diego's words went straight to Victoria's heart and it melted in her chest. Dear, dear Don Diego... and dear Don Alejandro!

She smiled and nodded. "Gracias. I know this, and it means a lot..."

She plunged her hands in her pockets and found Don Diego's black tie in there. She pulled it out and with a grin she playfully put it around his neck.

"Here, you forgot it last time."

Then she turned to her painting and took it carefully.

"Come," she said happily, "let's bring it right beside its model, will you?"

She walked to the stairs, then she turned back to him, holding out her hand to him:

"And let's make things happen..."


	81. Ch 81 - Soft spots

Victoria put Diego's painting on her dressing table and leant the frame against the mirror.

Diego looked at his bouquet – the real one, not the picture – and he saw that it was as radiant as the last time he saw it, in this same bedroom, at this same place. The only difference was that the plain water jug it had been in had now been replaced by his mother's crystal vase. In the relative dimness of the room induced by the partially closed shutters, it was catching the few rays of sunlight which managed to filter through the wooden laths, shattering them through the prismatic structures of its shape and sending colourful glints of light in every direction, creating rainbow-like spots here and there on the walls, on the furniture and on the bedcover. As well as on Victoria's clothes and skin...

It was giving the room an enchanting and almost otherworldly atmosphere.

Victoria was still standing in front of the dressing table with her back to him, and while she was admiring both her real flowers and their painted counterparts, Diego for his part and unbeknownst to her was admiring Victoria, both the reflection of her face in the mirror and her back in direct view of his eyes. For once she had twisted her hair into a bun, held in place by a few hairpins.

Driven by a sudden impulse and the mood of the moment, he took a step closer to her and dared slowly hold out both hands forth; then he tentatively brushed the top of her forearms on each side from behind her and he lightly, slowly ran the pads of his fingers down an inch or two, and then up. After the first surprise, she quivered a little bit, revelling in the nice sensation this unexpected and very light touch was eliciting in her.

Then he stopped brushing his fingers against her skin and let them just rest where they were, in the crook of her elbows, and he too looked at the flowers. At the large, proud and bright sunflower. At the trembling fizzy bobbly baby's breath. Diego blew lightly toward it and the airy cloud of white tiny balls shook as they both looked dreamily at it.

Then on the spur of the moment Diego bent his head forward and gently pressed his lips on the nape of her neck, like they were irresistibly attracted to this square of fair skin like iron to a magnet. Startled at this unexpected move, Victoria stiffened a bit and involuntarily took in a sharp intake of breath, so Diego pulled back an inch, regretting his foolish impulse and apprehensively searching the reflection of her face in the mirror in front of them.

Victoria was feeling his short and quick breathing against the skin of her neck, and he still had his hands gently resting on her arms, with his thumbs nested in the crook of her elbows. It felt warm, and nice, and soft, and... affectionate. Respectful. Gentle. Very much Diego-de-la-Vega-like, in fact. And she suddenly really liked this sensation. The warmth radiating from his hands and his breath made another warmth of its own bud and spread in her chest and her stomach, a soft but also slightly tickling warmth.

And it was feeling good. She glanced at the mirror and caught the reflection of his slightly unquiet gaze, intently held it for a whole second without a word, relieved that he wasn't talking either. The last two times he would have very probably profusely apologised and stammered, and she would have looked down and mumbled something barely intelligible, but now she was feeling slightly more at ease with him, or at least slightly less uneasy, so despite the blush she could feel creeping up her face and see in her own reflection, she just closed her eyes and let herself lean back a slight little bit against his chest.

Relieved by this reaction, Diego felt his heart beat a bit faster than usual and he resumed slowly running his fingers – and soon his whole hand – down and up her forearms in a gentle caress. Emboldened by her acceptance and apparent enjoyment of his ministrations, he bent his head again and kissed her neck longer than previously, with a bit more pressure, a bit more intensity. A bit more moisture too, a real kiss and not just a brush of his lips, and a bit more warm breeze breathing from his nose on her skin.

Victoria was surprised at how nice it felt. Still weird, but nice. She didn't know whether she should fight the remnants of uneasiness she was still feeling at the idea of being in this situation _with Diego de la Vega_ and not with her beloved Zorro, or whether she should hold onto this uneasiness to maintain some sort of... decent formality with him.

Diego's hands caressingly ran down Victoria's arms and they slowly slipped in hers while he settled his cheek in the crook of her neck. They were both looking at their reflection in the mirror and smiled at it contentedly.

Pressed back against him, Victoria clearly felt his hardening into the small of her back, testimony of his arousal at their situation, if not directly for her. Still, it was flattering... Either he didn't realise it or he didn't care, because he didn't step back, didn't blush either, and he bent his head down to drop a kiss on her shoulder, over the cotton fabric of her white blouse.

She smiled at him in the mirror, but he didn't look. The weird liquid-like something churning in her stomach like a snake was back, not only there but also in the rest of her insides, coiling and slithering around in there and even down to her loins.

She raised their joined hands to her midriff and gently put his on her belly, softly stroking the back of these with her fingers. She heard him take a discreet intake of breath but in the mirror she also saw his smile grow wider. And dreamier, too. This time she let herself fully lean back against him.

They stayed like that a few seconds, with his thumb stroking her hand over her womb, then she suddenly unclasped his hands and turned around to face him, encircling him with her arms and settling her head in the crook of his neck.

There, her nose caught a whiff of his shaving soap. Clean, soft, considerate. She revelled in it.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Diego too encircled her with his arms and they stood like that, with her head nestled against his neck and his racing heartbeat thumping in his chest. It was sending waves of blood in his veins in rhythm with this pace, and completely out of the blue Diego suddenly thought that Victoria could probably feel it run through his jugular.

But he soon became also very much aware of her breasts crushed against his chest, and of his own stiffened groin pressing against her.

And it didn't calm down when he realised that she had indeed probably noticed the rush of blood in his jugular, since he felt her warm lips gently pressed against it, treating it with a kiss. His breathing quickened and it did something warm to his stomach that he couldn't clearly describe but was undoubtedly pleasant to feel.

He closed his eyes to better relish it, and raised his head to give her lips better access to his neck. She apparently got the hint, or just made the most of it to do precisely what she wanted to do, because indeed she slowly, very slowly ran her lips along his beating vein: up... down... up again... Diego's breathing got short, and another part of him longer.

Finally and despite heroic efforts, he couldn't stop himself anymore and let out the shuddering soft whimper he had been holding back for several seconds.

Victoria pulled back and he opened his eyes to her smiling face. He half expected to see her proud of her achievement and sporting a smug smile on her lips, but no, not even that: it was a sheer and straightforward nice smile, a happy smile. Simply but sheerly _happy_. But much more than any coy, coquettish or flirtatious smile, more than any teasing simper, this purely and simply really happy smile was in Diego's opinion the most arousing one he had ever seen. The most erotic smile ever. He unclasped his hands from behind her back and raised one hand to her face, tentatively touching the skin of her cheek with the tip of his index and middle fingers. Then he lifted it up a bit to her hair and stroked it down to behind her ear with the knuckle of his bent finger.

Her eyes didn't leave his but her smile turned soft. Encouraged by this, he ran his knuckle lower down, under her ear, along the side of her neck and to her shoulder. There he opened his hand and he continued his gentle caress round her shoulder and along her arm, still very slowly to better revel in the soft contact and to make this pleasant sensation last longer. When he arrived down at her wrist, instead of stroking her palm he went back up to the inside of her elbow, made a circular motion there to enjoy the smoothness of her skin, then he resumed going up her arm. And then down again.

How could he never have notice before how perfect her arms were? Round, bronzed, smooth, fleshy and toned arms. Incredibly soft fairer skin on the inner side of her elbows. Spindle-shaped slender forearms.

On her left side his fingers were stroking her inner elbow again and he looked at this spot of skin, fascinated.

Then, sliding his hand to the underside, he cupped her elbow with his palm and bending forward, he lowered his head to it until his warm lips brushed her smooth skin on the inner side of it. He kissed it reverently, as though he was tasting a precious and rare ambrosia, savouring it as long as he could.

Victoria swallowed hard. After the light brush of his hand and fingers, she was feeling Don Diego's moist lips kissing and caressing her thin and very sensitive skin, and kissing it again. And again. It was playing havoc with her mind, and inducing turmoil in her stomach.

Or even a bit lower.

 _Oh!_ Did he– Did he just _lick_ her inner elbow? She felt her face grow very warm, and when he then almost sucked on her skin there, her breathing quickened and her chest rose and fell in rhythm with it.

Alright, this time she really felt something warm, unexpected and even damp tickle her between her legs. And she didn't hate it at all.

When Diego raised his head again he couldn't miss her flushed face and her swollen lips, but her eyes were closed so he couldn't see how shiny they were.

Feeling that his ministrations had stopped, she opened them and looked down at her own arm. His hand was still holding her elbow, so she took his wrist with her other hand and pulled it down along her forearm until their hands were touching, and she slipped hers around his with a gentle squeeze.

She was hesitating: she wanted to ask him something, had been thinking about it since last Saturday in fact, but she wasn't sure she would dare. She was fearing his reaction to her suggestion. Fearing that the idea might shock him. She really, really didn't want him to feel offended, and she certainly didn't want him to feel obliged to grant her new wish. She knew it was far too intimate for the kind of deal they had, but...

Still, she was now curious and, the more she had been thinking about it, the more she had been making mental images... And the more she had been looking forward to it.

She took a deep breath in:

"Don Diego... there is... There is something I'd like, but... I'm not sure you... Please don't feel offended, and if you don't want, just say so, it's alright with me..."

Diego looked at her, completely at a loss as to what she could be referring to. What did she have in mind? What else could she want, now?

"Er... I'm all ears," he told her to encourage her to talk.

But she had turned almost scarlet and was now looking at her shoes.

Diego lifted her hand to his lips and dropped a highly respectful but affectionate kiss on the back of it. Then he turned it and pressed another wet and hot kiss on her inner wrist.

"Victoria...?" he prompted her with a gentle smile. "Ask, have no fear."

She raised her reddened face and made herself look him in the eyes. She took a deep breath and blurted out:

"Don Diego, this time I'd like us to completely undress."


	82. Ch 82 - Clad in skin and light

_Oh!_

Victoria was asking him–

She wanted–

_...Naked?_

She wanted him to take off his clothes? _All_ his clothes? To strip down to his birthday suit?

It sounded... bold... daring... and very personal. Eminently intimate.

And also... a tiny bit... _exciting?_

As well as very intimidating.

He swallowed hard to help himself digest Victoria's unexpected suggestion.

_...'Request'...?_

His natural modesty felt a little bit bothered, and the suddenness of this request shocked him a bit, but on the other hand... a real form of intimacy was indeed exactly what he wanted with Victoria ever since the day he realised he was in love with her. And mutual nakedness was probably a component leading to a true feeling of intimacy. At least he hoped so.

And this way their intercourse would get a bit closer to the real thing, right?

Not that it wasn't real in itself, but... he knew it was only with a purpose, he didn't have the right to lose sight of this fact. But still, it could perhaps be nice to pretend for once that it was something else, or just to forget what it really was about... Yes, would be nice.

Nice, but dangerous. Diego knew illusions often were enticing, and he also knew that deluding oneself and harbouring nice but deceptive illusions could lead to a very harsh landing when reality finally crashes with full force in your face.

So for all these reasons, Diego hesitated. On the one hand, playing make-believe, cuddling and giving each other tenderness sounded appealing, but on the other hand...

On the other hand, he was afraid. Of the consequences. Of his heart suffering even more than it already was, of it getting a searing and painful wound inflicted by an unsuspecting Victoria. Of unwillingly letting his hopes rise too high, only to crash down and be left there, no better than a wrecked ship foundering into the depths of the darkest waters.

He looked at her: she was staring at him, expectantly waiting for his answer with a tiny hopeful but very unsure smile. The look in her eyes matched it perfectly, and to Diego it was the kind of smile and look which made him want to answer 'yes' to whatever might be her question.

She wanted him to disrobe for her. Wanted to see his body. _Naked_. To touch his skin. With hers.

And he suddenly realised that this way, he'd also get to see her naked. To touch her skin with his. He bit his lower lip and then mentally kicked himself when he saw that she noticed this involuntary reaction.

Did her eyes just... _shine?_

 _Oh._ And then he realised that in a way, she was already mentally undressing him. He suddenly felt like a prey, even if it was far less obvious than the night he was there as Zorro and she tried to seduce him to her bed. At the time a small part of him had been tempted to say yes, of course, but another larger part knew that she was asking _Zorro_ and not _himself_ , not his true self.

Now, on the contrary, a very great part of his mind and soul realised she was asking _him_.

_Him._

And not the other one.

He swallowed again.

And finally he slowly and silently nodded, raising his trembling right hand to the top buttons of his shirt.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Diego had never felt as exposed as he currently was under Victoria's appraising look. Never felt as... well, naked, yes, in every sense of the word. And her look taking him in precisely made him realise how exposed he was. How bare. And despite the fire burning in his cheek, on his forehead, and also much lower in his nether regions – although this one was a totally different sort of fire! – he became acutely aware of a small breeze from the window lightly tickling his groin with its airy velvety coolness in an almost mocking manner.

He felt an urge to hide this very private part of him with his hands, but out of the blue he suddenly thought that he would look even more ridiculous if he did so than if he tried to be at ease with his very expose crotch, even in the state it was in due to the way it was reacting to Victoria.

He closed his eyes to try to calm down and be more comfortable with his total nakedness in her presence, took a breath in and opened them again.

He then saw that Victoria's appraising look had turn into an appreciative gaze, and let out a small relieved sigh.

And– _oh!_ Now that he wasn't on pins and needles anymore, it finally and suddenly registered in Diego's brain that she too was entirely naked!

His jaw dropped, and after two whole seconds of gawping, he took a small gasp of air and then he let out in a hushed whisper, left breathless by surprise and admiration:

"You're beautiful..."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

So _that_ was what men looked like...

She definitely could do with such a sight before her eyes.

Well, of course she had already seen children being taken care of, or even shirtless men before – peasants in their fields, wounded men being tended to, or her own brothers changing clothes – but never had she seen a grown man _that_ naked. Below the waist as well as above.

Beautiful, she thought. Not just handsome, no: the word didn't do justice to the sight in front of her. _Beautiful_.

She gazed with relish at the shadows and light enhancing his skin and manly curves and hollows and muscles. Spots of rainbow sent by the crystal vase were dancing on his skin, and she suddenly envied these tiny dots of light which got to touch and caress him everywhere. To play with him, _on_ him. Teasing here in doing so.

His legs were as long as she had always imagined them to be: almost endless. And in fact, she found that he looked even taller naked that when he was fully clothed. She had always known he _was_ tall of course, but here it simply was... obvious. Probably something to do with seeing such a tall amount of fair skin towering her right in front of eyes.

It was a bit intimidating, but she enjoyed the sight anyway. Don Diego really was handsomely shaped, Victoria reflected: God had been inspired the day he had modelled Adam's body, if the result was anything like what she was currently admiring.

Still, she didn't overtly stare at... er... at the _part_ which had gone inside her the last two times, but otherwise she let her eyes roam everywhere else. And she suddenly regretted that Don Diego didn't have the brilliant idea to turn around!

She wouldn't ask him to, though. She wouldn't dare. Perhaps she'd try to discreetly peek, later? If the back matched the front, she'd definitely hate the fabric of his clothes...

After that, her stare crawled up his arm – oh! his biceps was what... twice as wide as hers, or even a bit more? – and turned round his smooth shoulder to run along this beating vein she had fondly kissed earlier up to this face she knew so well – so well, really? it looked... more intense than usual... more _eager._ Her eyes caught his and she saw that he too was assessing her body.

She felt suddenly very much aware of her own nakedness. And to think that, engrossed in the discovery and contemplation of Don Diego's body as she had been, Victoria had briefly forgotten that she too was exposed to his gaze. _Completely_ exposed. At this thought she felt a bit ill-at-ease and regretted she didn't have enough hands to cover both her breasts and her mound of Venus. But since she couldn't hide then she decided to live with it and appear detached. And after all, she was the one who had asked for this nakedness!

But then Don Diego's stare as well as the look on his face turned... stunned. He gaped at her. She briefly wondered what was so wrong with her body, suddenly worried of what he could have been expecting so far. Was she so disappointing? She should have never suggested for them take off their clothes this time. Everything had been going so well in the few minutes before that!

Yes, she was certainly less attractive, less womanly than the women he had... er... _known_ until now. In the biblical sense of the verb.

She was about to dejectedly avert her eyes when she noticed in the way he was gazing at her that if he was indeed stunned by the sight of her naked body, it seemed to be in a good way. An admiring way.

Was it really? Or was it just some wishful thinking from her part?

"You're beautiful," he finally breathed in awe.

Victoria's eyes lit up.


	83. Ch 83 - 'Eclectricsitric'

Victoria's chest had some trouble rising to let her draw in some air. The weight of Don Diego's collapsed body was pressing down on it and trapping her between him and her mattress, impeding her breathing.

_Ouch, he's really heavy!_

His own panting, on the other hand, was blowing hot air against her face and hair, and even though she enjoyed this calming caress after the sex-induced intense arousal and excitation, even though she had absolutely loved the skin-to-skin contact during their intercourse, she really, really needed to breathe fully, to completely fill her lungs with fresh air.

Lifting a hesitant hand up their still joined bodies, she poked his naked left shoulder with her index finger. Lightly at first, then a bit more insistently the third time.

"Hum... Don Diego...?"

He didn't immediately respond.

She poked the round muscle of his shoulder once more.

"Hmm...?" she heard him let out, unmoving. He was still as still and limp as though he was sleeping, but his panting breath and the way he acknowledged her attempt to get his attention proved her that he was still awake.

The humming sound he emitted in responding to her poking made his throat and chest vibrate a bit, and she could very lightly feel it. It felt very intimate. Lulling.

But her own chest was still oppressed by his weight.

"You're crushing me," she softly murmured.

He lifted his heavy head and tried to focus a rather hazy look on her. A beatific though slightly stupid smile was plastered on his face.

He blinked

"Uh...?" was the brightest he could manage at the moment.

It almost made her giggle, except that to be able to laugh you needed to be able to get air in your lungs.

"You're crushing me," she gently repeated.

He blinked again and Victoria's words finally seemed to register. Comprehension lit up his eyes and his eyebrows rose. He pushed on his arms and legs to lift his weight from her body, thereby pulling out of her, before collapsing on his back beside Victoria.

"Sorry," he managed to let out in a heavy breath.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was hardy feeling the cool air on her skin. Her mind was somehow analysing the sensations she had felt, as well as the ones she was still having.

Like this almost burning and rather demanding tickling strangely and unexpectedly coursing through the folds of flesh framing her intimate innerside. It had seized her groin suddenly and rather intensely one minute earlier while Don Diego was still thrusting rather ardently inside her, and in addition to making muscles she didn't know existed in her body contract without her mind and own will playing any part in it – thereby squeezing Don Diego's... _ahem_... own 'intimate part' – the weird phenomenon happening down there to her also sent shots of... well, she couldn't really describe it... of something tickling from inside the flesh run through her folds and cleft and bud.

Weird, yes... but she hadn't disliked it. In fact, it had even felt good. Both a bit uncomfortable and pleasant at the same time. A rather strange mix.

 _Oh!_ Another bit of it, like a tremor after an earthquake, a crumb of aftershock ran again through her folds – _hihi, funny, tickles a bit!_ – and her inner newfound muscles involuntarily clenched again, this time around nothing.

She wouldn't have the words to describe the sensations exactly, but the closest her mind could come up with to compare this rush of this something coursing through her flesh was that it reminded her the time Don Diego – already him, decidedly! – showed her some experiment he had been reading about and had recreated with Felipe. He had built up a weird contraption made of a pile of wet felt discs and metal rings with two wires. Then he had applied the end of each wire on Felipe's tongue and the boy had first looked surprised; then he had smiled.

For once Victoria had been curious of the boys' experiment and had asked Don Diego to try it on her. Yes, it had been a weird sensation: this invisible 'something' coursing across her tongue, half tickling half pricking, was not unlike the fizzing of a sparkling wine. Except she hadn't been drinking anything. It had also been a bit like a very slight and silent buzz running through her tongue.

Yes, the sensation which she had just felt down there, which she was still sporadically feeling down there, felt a little bit like this... this... _eclecticsitry_ that Don Diego had tried to explain to her months ago.

Well, she liked it. It felt good.

Another tremor ran through her sensitive flesh.

Yes, the whole thing had been good, she concluded.

And to Don Diego it must have been very, _very_ good, according to the absolutely blissful smile he still had on his face, and also to the delighted sounds and moans he had let out while she had been involuntarily clenching around him, not long before he shook all over and then heavily collapsed onto her.

Never before had she heard such sounds, and she strangely felt a bit out-of-place, a bit of a voyeur for witnessing such an intimate and personal moment to him, but she refused to blush about his pleasure. Especially a pleasure she had somehow given him.

In fact part of her felt rather proud for that. She almost mentally patted herself on the back at this idea and fought the smug smile coming to her lips as a last _eclectricitric_ tremor coursed through her – was it to humble her by reminding her that she too was but an assortment of flesh and blood and sensitive nerves just like he was?

She hadn't realised it earlier because of Don Diego's heavy panting, but her own breathing was a bit laboured too. She refrained from asking him something stupidly smug along the lines of _'liked it, it seems?'_ or anything that sort. That wouldn't do. She didn't want to ruin the current mood.

And anyway, she didn't want to talk. And was still a bit too out-of-breath for that. She was staring at the ceiling as her breathing went back to normal and as the intense arousal she had been feeling until two minutes earlier had now subsided. Only now did she realise that the cool air on her slightly sweaty skin was making her feel a bit cold. Extending her right arm she managed to grab the hem of her bedsheet and threw it haphazardly over the two of them.

After a short while she felt the need to... well, she didn't know exactly... to share a little thing with Don Diego... a moment, or something like that. But she still didn't want to talk, to utter even one word. So she moved her left hand which had been lying on the mattress a few inches more to the left and gently slipped it in his right one. She feared he's start or even removed his, feeling that she was intruding in his personal moment and space.

But he didn't. He seemed to accept the contact. _Welcomed_ it? She didn't know, but what was sure was that even though he was still feeling exhausted and hadn't moved an inch since he collapsed on the mattress, she felt his fingers lightly and briefly bend around hers before going limp again.

And letting her hand lie over his, palm against palm, she decided she loved this short and silent conversation they just had.

She felt relieved that he didn't seem to want to talk either. And more generally that he had felt the same growing arousal as hers as and when they had been giving each other attentive and considerate ministrations, as and when they had been discovering each other's body, as and when they had been sacrificing to Venus. She was happy that they both had been on the same wavelength.

And that he didn't remove his hand. That he didn't choose to back away now that their coupling was over. That he accepted to let her seek his hand and to share with her the intimacy of his palm.

Yes. It had been good.


	84. Ch 84 - A visit is always a pleasure: if not when it begins...

Diego had just slipped out of the tavern very discretely through the back door when round the corner he came across his father and Leonor, hand in hand on the plaza.

"Ah, Diego! Here you are, hijo..." Don Alejandro told him. "By the way, where were you all this time...? You disappeared just after lunch for the whole siesta time!"

"Oh, er... I was... in the Guardian's office. And after siesta I just thought I would stop by at Victoria's and say hello, so that's what I did..."

"Oh, excellent idea!" Don Alejandro rejoiced with a glint in his eyes. "And how is she? Since yesterday, I mean..." he added, with a hint of tease in his voice.

"Er... fine... working hard, as always... Just– just– just _Victoria,_ you know, _regular_ Victoria I mean... Nothing new of course, nothing to say!" Diego hastily replied.

If Alejandro didn't know better about his son's real feelings, he would desperate at his own flesh and blood's obvious lack of... interest, as well as at his lack of any skill as far as talking about the fair sex was concerned. _'Regular'!?_. You never, ever dub a woman as plainly _regular_ , whoever she is. Even if she is like your best pal. And even less if you're infatuated with her, for God's sake!

Alejandro was now seeing through Diego's fake nonchalance and detachment, but Victoria would certainly never notice anything about his keen interest if he went on sounding that blunderly indifferent and blind to her charm...

The poor father sighed: Diego would really, really need his discreet and underhand help!

"And why didn't you get out through the front door, Diego?" Leonor ingenuously asked.

Diego suddenly cursed his sister's sound common sense. Because their mind don't have the required maturity to work on too abstract ideas and feelings yet, children often have an astonishing capacity to keep to the hard facts, because their mind isn't occupied with complicated plans or notions and they can focus on their immediate surroundings.

Fortunately for Diego their father didn't pay attention to her observation and resumed walking across the plaza, dragging her along with him. Unfortunately for her elder brother though, when they don't obtain satisfactory enough an answer, children tend to repeat the same question over and over.

"Why didn't you use the front door, Diego?"

_Damned! I've been fooling the army, my own father and the whole of Los Angeles for years, for Heaven's sake, I can't believe I'm being put in the hot seat by a six-years-old!_

"Victoria needed help for carrying something heavy in the kitchen," he lied, "that's all..."

 _Here,_ Diego thought. _Happy with this explanation?_

"Oh, glad you helped her," Alejandro approved. "But I hope you didn't hurt yourself," he added, rather paternalistically.

He had meant it to sound like the fatherly concern it truly was, but in Diego's ears it sounded awfully patronising.

"Don't worry Father," he answered a bit sulky, "I'm all right."

"Are you sure? You look tired, like you had just exerted yourself. But I'm very glad you gave her the help she requested from you, and I'm sure that she was too."

Diego's features froze for a split second at the double meaning of his father's words and he swallowed hard. Was his father suspecting–? But no, he reasoned, he couldn't be. They had been very cautious and absolutely discreet, no one could have seen him get in or out either time...

Time to change the subject, he decided.

"And what about you, Father? What have you come to do in the pueblo with Leonor?"

"Well, I found that the time had come to bring your suggestion into play, even though thanks to Zorro's intervention, Señora Duarte's situation will now be less dire... But she'll still need our patronage. And anyway, Leonor needs this outfit."

Leonor bounced happily:

"Oh, yes! Yes! Gracias Papá, gracias Diego!"

"Are you coming with us, hijo?" Don Alejandro asked his son.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Buenos días Señora!" Don Alejandro joyfully greeted the seamstress when he entered her home after her daughter opened the door.

Señora Duarte simply and silently nodded in reply to his greeting, and she focused her attention back to the shirt she was working on.

"Buenos días Señora," she heard a child's high-pitched little voice echo the older man's words.

She sharply raised her head again.

"Buenos días Señora," a third voice repeated. A male and adult voice, this time. She recognised its owner and of course immediately identified who the child was.

"Buenos días Señorita, Don Diego..." she replied.

Don Alejandro couldn't miss the difference in the way she was behaving toward him on the one hand, and his children on the other hand. He gritted his teeth and bit the bullet: he was beginning to get used to being at the receiving end of this kind of treatment from some of his usual acquaintances. He took comfort in the fact that at least she addressed Diego and Leonor rather kindly, if still a bit stiffly so. He'd take her cold shoulder then, as long as no one took it out on his children. Better this than the other way round!

"Señora," he said all the same, "could you please measure my daughter up? She needs a more practical outfit. A dress, or a blouse and a skirt, something like that..."

Señora Duarte didn't directly answer him, but she turned to her daughter:

"Elvira, take care of the young señorita, will you?"

The woman then turned to Leonor and leaned to her:

"You can go with my daughter, young Señorita, she is going to measure you up."

"Gracias Señora," Alejandro told the seamstress.

She didn't say anything but acknowledged him with a nod, before going back to sewing the buttons of the shirt she had been working on when they entered.

Elvira took Leonor's hand and helped her climb on a stool.

"Just wait here one second, Señorita, I'm going to grab my tape measure..." she told the child. "Careful, don't fall!" she added when she noticed that the little girl was still bouncing.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Leonor was standing on her stool as still as a statue on its pedestal, and she even barely dared breathing.

"Now could you please raise your arm?" Elvira asked.

The child obediently did as required.

Diego and his father were standing nearby, watching Elvira and her mother work, if only to pass the time. Señora Duarte was intently working on her task, only raising her head from time to time to look at her daughter, at Leonor or at Don Diego. But she seemed to totally ignore Don Alejandro's presence, he noted.

"Hi hi, it tickles!" Leonor protested, giggling.

"No pain, no gain..." Elvira answered with a smile.

And with these words, she raised her other hand to Leonor's midriff and tickled it for real. The little girl guffawed and both Diego and Alejandro grinned broadly at Elvira's teasing and at the happy sound of a child's laughter.

Señora Duarte raised her head again and looked at the girls with a smile which reached her eyes. Then, still silent, she carried on with making the buttonholes on the shirt she was putting the finishing touches to.

A knock on the door.

Elvira put her tape measure down and went to open to whoever just knocked.

"Señor Alcalde..." they all heard her say with a hint of displease in her voice.

Señora Duarte's head rose sharply just as Diego's and Alejandro's turned to the door too, and four pairs of eyes looked right at Ignacio de Soto.

Elvira's arm was still leaned on the frame of the door, clearly blocking the way.

"Señor Alcalde..." Señora Duarte said in a falsely welcoming voice. "Elvira, let the alcalde in, will you? He has certainly knocked on this door for a purely friendly social call..."

Elvira reluctantly removed her hand and slowly took a step back to let him in.

"You can go back to taking care of Señorita Leonor, Elvira, while I'll take care of Señor Alcalde..."

Leonor was the only one there completely unaware of the tension in the room since de Soto appeared, and she happily welcomed Elvira's returned care, even though the young woman wasn't totally paying attention to her task anymore, keeping her ears focused on her mother and their new visitor.

Diego and his father turned to Señora Duarte and the alcalde. The seamstress had stayed seated at her worktable and hadn't put the shirt down.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Señor Alcalde?" Señora Duarte asked, caution and irony dripping from each of her words.


	85. Ch 85 - ...then when it ends!

De Soto noticed that they had an audience and hated it: it was unpleasant enough a visit to make, he really didn't need Alejandro de la Vega and his useless son to witness it!

He coughed and cleared his throat.

"Hum... Señora, I've come to place an order for a complete set of uniform... of _dress_ uniform..." de Soto said, "and hum... also a regular pair of white breeches..." he added mezzo voce.

 _Oh yes,_ Diego remembered, _my Z completely ruined the backside of those he was wearing last Saturday..._

Señora Duarte arched an eyebrow.

"I see..." she said. "But I'm not sure I can afford working for you, Señor Alcalde. I've learned the hard way that accepting an order from you could cost much more than it may bring in. So I regret but I'm afraid I can't afford your patronage, even less so that I still have a huge fine to pay for my late husband's uncompleted task. Perhaps you'll find another seamstress or a tailor more financially able to take the risk of entering into a business deal with you in a nearby pueblo. Or further."

Alejandro and Diego didn't miss any one of her words and were clearly enjoying the woman's counter-attack, lapping up each word of it.

"I... er... well... about this unfortunate misunderstanding..." de Soto stammered... "of course the sanctions have probably been decided a bit too hurriedly, and without the time of mature consideration..."

"It's been several months since Octavio died, Señor Alcalde," Alejandro couldn't help but pipe in. "How long does your consideration need to mature...?"

"De la Vega..." de Soto retorted, "if I were you I wouldn't brag and feel entitled to lecture anyone... I thought you'd rather keep a low profile: but such a paragon of virtue as yourself is certainly the best example for all of us!"

"Alcalde..." Alejandro growled, taking a threatening step to him.

"You simply can't go around giving lessons about maturity when past the prime of life you've acted like an irresponsible randy teenager!"

This time Alejandro became incensed and scarlet-red with outrage. He walked right to the alcalde and put his hand on the hilt of his sword, beginning to unsheathe it.

"De Soto, you'll answer for your w–"

Fortunately Diego had anticipated his move and put his hand on his father's. He forced him to re-sheath his blade and put his other hand on de Soto's chest to keep him back from his father, and then he stood tall between the two angry men.

"Caballeros, please..." he said to try to have them calm down.

"Not in front of the girl..." Señora Duarte reproachfully scolded them.

Alejandro turned his head back to his daughter and saw the rather unquiet look in her eyes, so he clenched his jaw to get a grip on his temper. But his nostrils flared, sign that he was still outraged.

"I may have not always been a paragon of virtue in my private life, Señor Alcalde," Alejandro coldly replied, "but at least and contrary to you, I didn't abuse or take advantage of a widow and extort anything from her."

"We don't know about that, Don Alejandro," de Soto retorted, "and it remains to be proved. As far as we know, you seduced a very young and recently widowed girl, and got her with child... Excuse me for doubting you did this through your ageing and fading charm only..."

Don Alejandro's eyes suddenly burned with rage and he took another step to de Soto but he didn't even have the time to either skewer him or throw a punch in his face because Señora Duarte forcefully hit her table with her fists and sprung to her feet, hissing between gritted teeth:

"That's quite enough! Alcalde, you are NOT to insult a father _in the presence of his child_ under my roof! Don Alejandro, if you think you have a personal disagreement to physically settle with the alcalde, I'd be grateful if you did this somewhere else than under my roof. It's an honest home here, and I too have young children: I don't want any scandal or violence taking place in there!"

Humbled, the two men breathed deeply to calm down and went silent, time enough to regain some composure.

"You're absolutely right Señora," de Soto told the seamstress. "My apologies to you ladies for my unseemly words."

"I apologise for my reaction, Señora," Alejandro echoed. "You are right, we are your guests here, and we must respect the peace of your home." Then he turned back to de Soto: "But I assure you, Señor Alcalde, that I didn't coerce, pressure or trick her into anything, and no one took advantage of the other in this affair. Señora Valdès is her own woman and is strong-willed enough to make her own choices. And that she does! In fact she'd feel offended if she heard you think her to be easily influenced or manipulated."

"Far be it from me to want to offend a fine lady–" de Soto began.

"Even less a lady who's not here to make her point herself, Ignacio," Diego cut in, "I'm sure of it. I therefore suggest that until Doña Araceli comes back on another visit, anyone here abstains from surmising anything about her character or choices..."

Alejandro looked at his son with a mix of surprise and gratitude. Diego was playing Araceli's advocate, now? He felt warmth flood his heart at his son's new goodwill toward his former mistress.

Señora Duarte, for her part, got Don Diego's message perfectly. But she wouldn't warm up to his father for all that.

"About this fine..." de Soto told her, "...er... of course it was an administrative mistake... it will soon be rectified, you can rest assured. The fine is cancelled."

"I'd rest more assured if you wrote it down right here and now, in fact," the seamstress replied.

She turned to a desk, took a leaf of blank paper, a quill and some ink, and then turned again to put all this down on the table, just in front of de Soto.

"I'm sure the alcalde will be happy to provide you with this paper, Señora," Diego said with a seemingly innocent smile aimed at de Soto. "Won't you, Ignacio?"

The alcalde shot a glare at him.

"Of course, Señora," he hissed through gritted teeth.

He didn't have any other choice but to comply. And in front of witnesses at that!

He scribbled a few words and signed at the bottom of the page. Then Diego took the paper and looked at the seamstress, pointing at the quill:

"With you permission, Señora...?" he asked her, seeking her agreement with a look of his eyes. She silently nodded and he countersigned the sheet of paper to testify that the alcalde indeed sworn Señora Duarte free from the previously demanded fine.

"Thank you Señor Alcalde," she told him while carefully thrusting the precious paper in her pocket.

"So, about this dress uniform, now–" de Soto said.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that Señor Alcalde," Señora Duarte replied, "but I still can't afford working for you... Late penalties would really be too much for my budget: imagine I couldn't finish your uniform on time...! I sincerely regret, but I must refuse this otherwise interesting order..."

Even though she remained straight-faced, it was obvious to Diego, Alejandro and Elvira that she was enjoying the situation immensely.

But it was dangerous to play too long with Ignacio de Soto. Diego saw his jaw clench as well as his fists, and he suddenly feared that Señora Duarte's daring cheek might backfire on her. He thus chose to smooth things between the two:

"Perhaps... perhaps if Señora Duarte can work without the sword of Damocles of penalties beyond a due date, she would work more freely and with less stress... What do you think, Señora?"

She made a show of hesitating.

"Hmm... er... perhaps, yes... possible. If I were sure that there wouldn't be any retaliation if ever my daughter and I couldn't finish on time... it is possible that our fingers wouldn’t shake so much... so we would be able to sew faster than under pressure and worry."

"And we would make less mistakes!" Elvira seconded with a mischievous smile.

"So under these conditions..." her mother went on, "yes, perhaps we could consider... Maybe..."

" _Maybe_...?" de Soto repeated.

"I suppose Señora Duarte and Señorita Elvira would feel more relieved," Diego cut in, "if you accepted to give a written promise that no penalties for late completion would be attached to this order..."

And joining the gesture with his words, he took another blank sheet of paper on the seamstress's table and slowly pushed it toward the alcalde.

"Or perhaps you may find another tailor in San Fenando or San Juan Capistrano..." Don Alejandro added, loving every occasion he could find to push the alcalde's buttons. "But of course it's a pretty good number of hours away from Los Angeles!"

Resigned, de Soto looked dejectedly at the paper, then at the quill, and he grabbed it to grudgingly scribble a few lines.

Just like she did previously, Señor Duarte carefully folded the paper and put it away.

"Thank you Señor Alcade," she said. "Elvira is almost done with Don Alejandro's daughter. She'll measure you up in a short while..." Then she turned to Leonor and held out her hand to her: "Now Señorita, do you want to come with me and choose the colours and fabrics?"

"Oh, yes! Can Papá and Diego choose with me, too?"

The woman raised her head at them.

"Of course, if you want them to." She turned back. "See you later, Señor Alcalde!"


	86. Ch 86 - A new normalcy

Once more, Diego snuck out of Victoria's tavern while she was getting ready to reopen her establishment after the siesta's break.

He still had a rather goofy smile plastered on his face and was once more feeling marvellously good.

In front of the church, he came across Felipe, Concepcion and Leonor who just arrived from the hacienda.

 _Where were you?_ Felipe asked.

"Oh, I was..." he gestured vaguely behind himself, for once cursing his young friend's perspicacity and sense of observation.

But he was momentarily saved by his little sister:

"Diego, will you come with me for the last fitting of my new clothes? Pretty please...!"

And once again, she batted her eyelids.

Diego chuckled at her attempt at getting exactly what she wanted and indeed he agreed to go with them.

"So tell me again," he asked her, "what colour will it be?"

He already knew the answer, because she had told him about it over and over as early as her first visit at the seamstress, but he was finding her eagerness refreshing. And it would distract Felipe's attention...

"The dress will be brown!" she announced visibly pleased. "And the blouse will be white with green and red edges. And the skirt is dark green, with a dark blue hem!"

Her father had agreed to two outfits, and after a dress very much like Elvira's, Leonor eagerly also chose something not unlike the clothes she could have seen on Victoria...

Thinking about his ladylove made Diego think back of the time he had just spent with her only minutes ago...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was resting her forehead against his shoulder. She was still half-straddling him after she had exhaustedly collapsed on top of him, trapping his hand between them; this hand was still cupping her left breast, but had stopped kneading it.

They were quietly lying still, skin against skin, sweat against sweat, and he was feeling her hot breathing against his damp chest. He could even sometimes feel this breeze caress his sensitive nipple. He liked that.

For the first time they didn't immediately part and retract from each other to lie each on their side of the bed.

 _Oh_ , Diego suddenly realised, indeed and without realising it, little by little he had come to now have _his_ side in Victoria's bed. Nothing had ever been said or discussed or agreed about that between them, but he had somehow always lain on the same side of the bed afterwards. Each time. Always the left side. And now he almost naturally always took that side to rest and catch his breath.

He had _his_ side on Victoria's bed. Or, even better than _on_ her bed: _in_ her bed.

 _His_ place.

Her arm was idly flung across his chest to his other arm which she had earlier grasped for some support, and also a little bit as an anchor in the middle of the tempest she had otherwise been creating and nourishing with her undulating wave-like moves.

Now they were enjoying the bliss of the calm after the storm, quietly and peacefully revelling in it and in the silence around them. The rest of the world had still not intruded yet, so they could pretend for a few more minutes that it didn't exist, ignore it for some more crumbs of time stolen to the harsh reality.

At least _he_ did so.

After a silent while she began to lightly and softly run her fingers up and down along his arm, caressing a few inches of it in doing so. She raised her head a little bit from his shoulder and looked at him. At his goofy smile, his reddened cheeks, his shiny eyes, and she smiled. She then moved a bit to the side to uncover him and be able to make her own eyes trail down his body: chest, navel, she averted her eyes away from his crotch and looked at his hip, and then was the top of his thighs... and the rest was hidden by the white linen sheet. She ran her eyes up the same way, stopped a bit at his nipples and then at his Adam's apple, and she ended her appreciative examination where it begun, on his relaxed face; on his flushed cheeks and his blissful smile.

She gazed at this sight. He looked so... so... Well, she couldn't find the word, but pleasure and afterglow looked very becoming on him. A truly gorgeous sight.

"You're really beautiful," she finally let out in a breath. "I can't believe I haven't told you so earlier," she added with a touch of wonder in her voice.

He turned his head slightly to the side to look at her. She smiled and simply settled back in their previous position, with her forehead against his shoulder.

"You're a really beautiful man, Diego de la Vega," she repeated, still in a murmur. "I'm a lucky woman to have you in my bed."

He looked at her, pleasantly surprised. Then he smiled happily though still tiredly:

"Gracias," he simply said.

And just like that, he dropped a light kiss on her forehead. It was the first time he ever kissed her – well, apart from during the foreplays or lovemaking. And apart from doing so from behind Zorro's mask of course, but that was not the same: he wouldn't go as far as to say that it didn't count, but... yes, kissing her as Zorro now seemed definitely not as... _much_... as kissing her as himself. Even only on the forehead.

They stayed like that another whole minute before Victoria finally murmured:

"So... she's leaving the day after tomorrow, then..."

By way of answer, he simply and silently nodded. A nod she couldn't see but felt.

"And how do you... what do you... How are you feeling about that...?" she inquired.

He didn't answer immediately. He took a deep breath, slowly let it out through a sigh, did it again and then finally said:

"I don't really know..."

He paused.

"I suppose I..." he began, "...I know I should... I'm supposed to miss her... to be going to miss her, I mean... and in a way I do! I truly will! But on the other hand... I hate to admit it but on another hand I must confess that..." he paused again and sighed. "...Perhaps I'm not that unhappy to see her go..." he finally added in a lower voice.

Victoria silently raised her head, put her bent left arm on the pillow and propped her head against her hand, looking at Diego seriously. She didn't say a word, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought as he was slowly pouring his heart out and talking about his true feelings over the turn his family situation has recently taken.

"...I hate sounding like a petty and spoiled only child, but... perhaps I'll feel a little bit relieved to... to get my father back to myself, somehow."

He said this last bit in a very low voice and this painful admission made him sheepish.

"I would have never thought you to be that much... _over-possessive_ a son," Victoria said.

"Well, I'm not too fond of this new side of myself I recently discovered either, to tell you the truth... But I can't help it."

She stroked his arm once more. Gently.

"Thank you for your honesty, Don Diego," she told him. "And for your trust. I truly appreciate that you don't just politely say that everything is fine: I truly care for you and for your father, you know. So thank you for not treating me like some mere acquaintance."

He took her hand with his and raised it to his lips to kiss her fingers. Then he squeezed them lightly. He still had a sheepish look on his face.

He closed his eyes.

"But I like her," he said, "I really do... in a way..."

He opened his eyes again.

"It's just that... I don't know what to think," he added.

"Then stop thinking," Victoria simply suggested, lightly brushing a finger across his forehead, "and just say what you feel..." she added, laying a hand over his heart.

She felt it beat under the skin and ribcage, and she liked this contact.

"What I feel..." he pensively repeated after her. "I like her," he said resolutely. "I'll miss her..."

He covered her hand with his, over his own heart. He looked at the dressing table in front of the bed they were lying in and at the vase on it: his bunch of flowers had now withered and Victoria would soon have to bring herself to throw it away.

"But it's been almost three weeks now and her mother wants her back in San Diego..." he went on. "In her letter she said that the people responsible for the kidnapping have all been found and put in jail now. And my father is going to visit the two of them next month. So I guess that all is well that ends well..."

He said this last bit with a hint of questioning in his voice.

"...Back to normalcy, then?" Victoria said.

He took a few seconds before answering:

"I suppose..." He paused. "I'll just have to get used to the fact that having a little sister who lives in San Diego is now part of this normalcy."

She sat up fully and stared down at his face with a serious look in her eyes.

"...And that you love her..." she added.

He smiled, conceding her the point.

"And that I love her," he finally admitted aloud.


	87. Ch 87 - Another crafty fox in Los Angeles

Leonor arrived first at the seamstress's – _"Buenos días Señora!"_ she happily but politely greeted Señora Duarte – and then she turned to the adults behind her. Felipe had a huge smile when he entered and nodded his own greeting. Especially when he saw Elvira beside her mother.

"Buenos días, Señorita Leonor," the seamstress answered. "Buenos días Don Diego. Look, Señorita, I'm just sewing the green braid on your blouse..."

And she showed her the white piece of material she was working on. Contrary to the previous times she had come to the seamstress, the little girl didn't jump excitedly to see the state of advancement of her clothes, no: she just nodded and politely said a bit gloomily:

"Gracias, Señora."

Teresa Duarte raised a surprised eyebrow: the little one seemed strangely less enthusiastic today, compared with how she behaved the other times...

Concepcion had retreated near a corner, not very far from where Elvira was pining a paper pattern onto a maroon piece of cloth. Felipe was standing right beside the maid and was watching the young girl working, like he was fascinated by her fingers' moves and dexterity.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Ouch, you pricked me!" Leonor protested for the third time.

"Sorry Señorita," Elvira replied a bit tiredly and with a hint of annoyance in her tone, "but you won't stay still. It would be already done by now if you'd just stop fidgeting..."

"Leonor, stop moving about and stay put on your stool, for Heaven's sake!" Don Alejandro told his daughter in a stern voice.

He had joined his children a few minutes earlier and was waiting with the rest of the lot for the fitting session to be over while idly chatting with Diego, a rather distracted Felipe and a no slightly more benevolent Señora Duarte, who was finishing Leonor's blouse.

Concepcion was still there too, but was used to make her presence be overlooked when in the presence of a third party like the Duartes.

"...where were we...?" Diego asked for himself. "Oh, yes: you were saying that my sister's two outfits would be finished tomorrow, on time before she leaves."

"Oh, she's leaving tomorrow?" the seamstress politely asked him.

"No, the day after," Alejandro answered with the ghost of a wistful sigh in his voice. "Her mother misses her, and that's only normal that she goes back home. But she'll come back here in some time, fortunately."

Teresa Duarte still strongly disapproved of Don Alejandro's past behaviour, and of its consequences, but she had slowly warmed a bit to him as and when she witnessed the affection and loving fondness he had for his little girl. He was far from being perfect and virtuous, but at least he was being a better father than some other people however duly married in holy matrimony.

"Buenos días Señ–" a voice said from the door, but obviously stopped when its owner saw the crowd already present in there. All heads turns to the door, except Leonor's, and they could see that the voice was de Soto's.

"...Señores..." he ended his greeting in a clearly displeased and gloomier voice.

"Señor Alcalde..." Teresa politely but coolly replied. "Buenos días to you too. What brings you here on this sunny day...?

"Like you don't know it..." de Soto answered. "I've come to pick up my new uniform, Señora."

"Oh yes!" Teresa said as though she had just remembered this detail. "Well, it's not finished yet, unfortunately. You'll have to come back later, I've had much work to do these past two weeks as you can see, with Guadalupe Prieto's dress which had to be ready for her wedding and then Señorita Leonor's outfits which have to be finished before she leaves..."

"And my uniforms have to be ready for the governor's visit in two days too!" de Soto shouted.

"I know, I know, Señor Alcalde, and I assure you that my daughter and I are doing our best to be ready on time for everyone, but we work on the clothes by date of order, and Don Alejandro's daughter leaves in two days too, so..."

Poor Ignacio de Soto went purple and almost choked with indignation. From where he was standing near the alcalde, Don Alejandro feared that it turned nasty and that the man would explode and retaliate with reprisals on the seamstress. That wouldn't do if her sudden cheek sent her to jail!

"Señora..." de Soto growled, "I told you two weeks ago that I need it these days... if I don't have it by tomorrow–"

"Then you'll wait till the day after to have it, Ignacio!" Diego cut in.

"If I remember well," Don Alejandro added, "there are no penalties attached to this order in case it was a bit late to be fully completed..."

"And there's a paper you signed which states it, Señor Alcalde..."

De Soto pointed a finger at Señora Duarte but he seemed to have trouble finding his words.

"You... you... you're dragging it out on purpose... you'd better finish for the governor's visit, Señora, or..."

"Or what, Señor Alcalde?" Alejandro asked. "I'm not disposed to accept that my daughter leaves Los Angeles without the outfits I have already paid for, and I placed this order before yours, so if your uniform is not ready by the day after tomorrow, you'd better not take it out on Señora Duarte."

"Oh, so that's what it is, then? A matter of money?"

"Well," Elvira dared suggest, "night-work in addition to the day's work has its price, Señor Alcalde, that's an additional source of strain and tiredness, and any additional hard work deserves a fair reward... so yes, emergencies are indeed a matter of money."

"I see..." de Soto grumbled, slipping a hand inside his waistcoat.

He took out a purse and put a pile of coins on the table. Señora Duarte looked at it with an unreadable face and then told de Soto:

"Señor Alcalde, Don Alejandro has been _very_ generous himself, you know..."

She remained completely straight-faced, but Elvira and Felipe both had some trouble keeping a poker face and not downright chuckling at Señora Duarte's bluff.

With a sigh, de Soto put a few more coins on the top of the pile.

"Thank you Señor Alcalde," Teresa told him, "Elvira and I will see what we can do."

"But the governor is to arriv–"

"We'll do our best, Señor Alcalde, I swear. Have a nice day Alcalde, see you again!" she said, pocketing his money.

They all watched his back as he retreated, then both women resumed what they had previously been doing: Elvira was around Leonor who was still standing on her stool, and Señora Duarte was putting the finishing touches to the little girl's white cotton blouse.

"Still," Don Alejandro told the seamstress after a minute or so, "that's a dangerous game you're playing here, Señora. De Soto is neither the most benevolent nor the most patient man here, and he's an alcalde... he is powerful."

"That's kind of you to worry for me Don Alejandro," she replied in a neutral tone of voice, "but I know what I'm doing."

"Still, Señora," Diego joined in, "he may take reprisals afterwards..."

"My son is right, Señora," Alejandro echoed, "and I'm afraid that the alcalde ends up taking his frustration out on you somehow, if he thinks that you're indeed postponing the completion of his new dress uniform till after the governor's visit on purpose. And it _is_ on purpose, isn't it?"

"Yes... and no," she cryptically replied. "Don't worry, Don Alejandro: in fact the alcade's order is already finished and is patiently waiting in a drawer in my storeroom. Only..." she paused and finally smiled at him, "only I'm not ready to let him get away with what he did so easily, I want him to sweat with worry, to break out into a cold sweat because of this dress uniform!"

Alejandro and Diego laughed, Felipe silently chuckled, Elvira giggled, and even Concepcion had a smile.

"Oh really Señora, how Machiavellian..." Diego told the seamstress.

"Way to turn the table on our dear alcalde!" his father added with a large smile. "Congratulations, Señora," he then said, playfully bowing his head at her.

"And a rather poetic way to do so, considering his admiration for Machiavelli..." Diego added.

They all chuckled.

"Still," Don Alejandro repeated, suddenly serious again, "it is a dangerous thing to do, playing like that with de Soto... Please be careful not to push things a bit too far with him, I'm afraid of how he could react."

She looked at him in earnest.

"I promise, Don Alejandro," she finally said sincerely.

"And please, if he were to be... _difficult_ with you, come to me immediately... I only want to help."

This time she had a true smile for him.

"Gracias, Don Alejandro," she finally said. "But I think it won't come to that: for now he needs his uniform too much, and after, he would have worried so much that he will be happy to have had it on time! But I'll remember your offer, I promise."

And with these words, she made a few more stitches to the green braid on Leonor's blouse and she grabbed her scissors to neatly cut the thread.

"Ow!" Leonor suddenly cried out from the opposite side of the room. "Hey, you've pinched me!" she reproachfully moaned at Elvira. "Be careful!"

"LEONOR!" Don Alejandro shouted. "You are _not_ to address grown-ups in that tone of voice! And if you had stayed still and been good with Elvira while she was pining your dress, it wouldn't have happened!"

"And it would already be over," Elvira added in a slightly scolding voice.

She had always been good-natured with the girl, but today the child seemed to have gotten up on the wrong side of her bed and had been a real pain toward her during the fitting. Almost insufferable.

"But Papá..."

"Papá _what?_ " Alejandro asked. "You're really being impossible, suddenly. What's gotten into you?"

But by way of answer, the little girl just folded her arms and resolutely lowered her head, so as not to look at anyone. But she was still standing on her stool, so the sulking and now unmoving child was somehow looking like a statue on its pedestal.

In a way it was a rather comical sight, so Felipe chuckled, soon followed in that by Diego. But Alejandro wasn't finding his daughter's behaviour funny at all and he rather felt appalled and ashamed of the way she had been acting and reacting.

"Señora," he said, turning again to the seamstress, "I apologise on my daughter's behalf, I don't understand what's gotten into her. She's never that difficult, usually. My most sincere apologies to you and to your daughter, Señora."

Señora Duarte nodded her acceptance. She too had probably been confronted with sulking children in her 'career' as a mother.

He then turned to Leonor.

"And _you_ , young lady, are to get down this stool and apologise to Elvira."

But Leonor only folded her arms tighter and stubbornly lowered her head even more.

"Leonooor..."

The tone of warning in Alejandro's voice was unmistakable and impossible to miss. Diego recognised it immediately, for having been at the receiving end of it quite a number of times in his youth, and he knew not to mess about when his father used it. Don Alejandro was meaning business now, and Leonor would better comply.

Apparently she understood that too, because she reluctantly got down her perch and unfolded her arms. But she didn't raise her head and barely uttered "my apologies, Señorita Elvira" not really toward the young woman, but rather toward her own feet.

" _And_ ," her father went on, you are also to apologise to Señora Duarte."

"Please excuse me, Señora Teresa," she mumbled toward her father's shoes.

She clearly said it without any sincerity and it obviously was a bare minimum, but it was enough for Don Alejandro not to lose face with regards to her behaviour toward the Duartes, and anyway the two women knew that the rest would be settled at home.


	88. Ch 88 - The enticing charms of peace and quiet

Victoria inhaled a whiff of Diego's scent when she contentedly slightly readjusted her head on his right breast, right above his nipple. She was making the most of the fact that he was still asleep and that she wasn't anymore to grab a few more minutes of him, of his presence beside her in her bed, under her bedclothes; a few more minutes of his naked skin against hers. He was sleeping on his back, she was lying on her side and had gently thrown her right leg across his, as well as lain her right hand over his stomach.

She loved his chest: although flat, men's breasts were making comfortable pillows, as she had soon discovered thanks to Diego. She sighed contentedly. Everything was still quiet around them and in the pueblo in general, but the first glimmers of approaching dawn were filtering through her shutters and her curtains, so she knew that the nice and quiet moments of intimacy she was presently revelling in were living on borrowed time. He would soon have to go. No, in fact he should already be gone, she sighed.

But she couldn't bring herself to wake him up and tell him it was time for him to leave. She loved these stolen moments too much. And she was still sleepy.

She slowly and indolently moved her hand from his stomach up his chest to his other breast, were she rested her palm over his heart. She liked feeling its regular and calming slow beating, it felt both lulling and reassuring.

She turned her head a little bit to drop a light kiss on his nipple and this was enough to rouse him from his slumber. She felt the change in him even before he moved or opened his eyes. Something to do with the way he was breathing, perhaps?

She kissed his flat breast again as a _good morning_.

For a few seconds he didn't move at all, none of them did, just enjoying the nice and quiet situation, then Diego's left arm crawled up along Victoria's right one and he gently wrapped his hand around hers. After a few more seconds his thumb featherlikely stroke the back of it, and then he gave her hand a light squeeze.

She responded by nesting her head even more on his chest, with another content faint sigh.

He then lifted her hand to his lips, where he bestowed a kiss on her palm.

"Good morning," he finally said with a still sleep-raspy voice.

She had a sleepy little smile.

"Good mornin'," she offered in return. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well... and apparently a bit too long," he said with a sigh of regret when he spotted the still faint first lights of the impending daybreak come from the window.

He gently lowered her hand down to the mattress and sat up.

"I'm sorry, I overslept. Bad habit, I know, but... well, you know how I am: not a morning person."

"Well, thanks to you I have discovered the charms of lazily lying in from time to time..." Victoria replied.

He chuckled but reached to his clothes and grabbed his trousers.

"Too bad that I have to go, then," he said with a hint of resigned regret in his voice.

"Please, stay a few more minutes..." she asked almost beggingly.

He turned to her and offered her another gentle smile.

"We both know I can't," he replied. "It's already a bit too late, but I still have a rather good chance to slip out of here or of the pueblo unnoticed. And this chance decreases with each passing minute and each new ray of daylight outside. People are getting up in Los Angeles, they will soon open their shutters or pull back the curtains, and they'll have a look through the windows... I can't stay any longer or we'll be discovered. What will people think when they spot me getting out of your tavern through the back door at dawn...?"

She had a puckish little smile.

"I'd say that they'll think something very much akin to the truth," she answered his rhetorical question with an impish grin. "But you're right," she added with a sigh, "better not advertise about it. They'll know soon enough."

Diego couldn’t help but take her last sentence as a small blow, even though he knew that Victoria certainly didn't intend it as such: yes, he thought, no woman around would like to be mistaken for wussy and unmanly Diego de la Vega's girlfriend... Who would like to date such a man? She didn't want to become the laughing stock of the female circles of Los Angeles! So frustrated by Zorro's unending courtship and so desperate for a lay that she had to fall back on the pueblo's greatest sissy!

He hid his suddenly downhearted mood by turning to the wall and getting up from the mattress to get dressed. Indeed, they had been lucky not to be discovered in the now roughly six months they had been going at it twice or thrice a week, either at siesta time or at bedtime... Until now no one had suspected, but how much longer would their secret last...?

And how much longer before they conceived...? In the six months they'd been assiduously trying, not even once did they have a hope that it worked... and with each month came the small disappointment. Now he didn't even have to ask, she didn't even have to tell: he could read her blighted hope on her face when that day came, even though she always did her best to hide her pang of sadness and look her usual cheerful self.

Almost six months and still nothing. It was beginning to slightly worry him. But what else could they do other than persevere...? Not that they minded trying, incidentally, quite the contrary! But still...

It was beginning to cast a shadow on his otherwise excellent mood as regards the new development in his relationship with Victoria, or his life in general. And talking about the good new things in his life, a sweet smile grazed his lips when he remembered that today Leonor was to arrive from San Diego to spend some time with her father – and her brother – here in Los Angeles, like she did every three months or so as agreed between her parents. Well, the other side of the coin was that this time her mother was coming with her, and Diego was a bit apprehensive of this presence under his father's roof again. He still wasn’t sure whether he could trust this woman or not.

But his rather mixed and grey train of thoughts was interrupted by the sensation of a light brushing on the still naked skin of his... _ahem_... his buttocks.

He turned to Victoria and silently raised an arched eyebrow at her and at her wandering outstretched hand.

"Oh, come on," she said in her own defence, "you're standing bare-bottomed right in front of my eyes, you can't resent me for ogling..."

"And you need to use your hands to take a look, now? Are your eyes at the tip of your fingers, as my dear mother used to say...?" he teasingly asked with a crooked smiled and a playfully lecturing tone of voice.

Vitoria giggled.

"My father used to say that too, when I was touching everything down in the kitchen. He was always afraid I'd break some bottle or plate!"

They both smiled sweetly at their childhood memories, which were also memories of their deceased parents. But Victoria soon giggled again when she reached out and copped another feel of his roundness.

"Hey!" he chastised her, feigning indignation.

"Well, to answer your previous question..." she replied, "it's still very dark... so yes, I need my hands for ogling!"

And with these last words she even moved across the bed and dropped a quick kiss on his right butt-cheek before he could react.

"Victoria!" he exclaimed with fake outrage.

"What? I'm just making the most of its nakedness before it's covered again!"

He playfully slapped her hand, and she faked a pout.

"Will you come here after noon?" she then asked expectantly.

"I don't know... Leonor and her mother would have just arrived sometime around the end of the morning, everyone would find it discourteous and unseemly of me if I left home just after lunch under some spurious pretext. My father might even take it as an insult to Doña Araceli..."

"Why would he...?" Victoria wondered aloud. "You have no quarrel with her! You two even seemed to get along rather well, if I remember well..."

She paused, but it was still too dark for him to see her frown.

"And after such a long travel," Victoria went on, "your sister and her mother will certainly want to lie down and take a nap after lunch, as well as their maid... Well, perhaps Señorita Leonor won't be too keen on siesta, like most children," Victoria qualified with a smile, "but the ladies certainly will!" she added, trying to decipher Diego's look; but the very little she could see of it through the dimness of the bedroom was unreadable. "Or... is there any other reason you wouldn't want to come to me for siesta today?"

Diego was so surprised by this question that he paused in what he was currently doing, which was getting dressed. Realising then that he had been slipping his right leg in the trousers' left one, he took it off before laying it on the mattress and walking round the bed still stark naked, to appease whatever trouble was suddenly worrying Victoria. Perhaps the six months without conceiving was beginning to gnaw at her mood too...? Did she now doubt his enthusiasm at sharing her bed?

"I assure you that there is no other reason which would prevent me from rushing to your arms... and your bedroom," he added with a smile.

Well, no other reason than some unpredictable need for Zorro to take action somewhere in the vicinity, he added inwardly. But of course he couldn't tell her so.

She was sitting on the edge of the mattress, facing her side of the wall and almost ready to get on her feet when she reached and grabbed his hand to drag him in front of her. He simply stood there and slowly raised his other hand to caress her cheek.

"I swear," he simply said, looking down to her face. "The moments I spend here with you... it's like... like... it is as though I were out of the time, and out of the rest of the world... in a good way, I mean! Like the rest of the world forgot about us and left us in peace for a few minutes or hours. I love that."

Victoria had a sweet smile which he couldn't see: her peace-loving man...!

His words made sense, of course: only months before, she still often stigmatised his love for the peace and quiet of his own little world, but now that he shared some crumbs of it with her, she had slowly discovered how nice these moments of simple peace and quiet felt, how precious they were too, and she let herself be charmed by it.

She dropped his hand and slowly snaked her arms around his waist to encircle it. She was still sitting, he was still standing, he was still naked and she fondly kissed his stomach, closing her eyes. Then she turned her face slightly to one side and nested her head against his midriff, with her right ear pressed above his navel and her hands clasped behind his back. Yes, it felt the same for her: a few minutes or hours when the world simply forgot about her, when her own little time seemed to stop flowing by, and she revelled in this peaceful quietness. Intense action immediately followed by lazy inaction; and she wouldn't have believed it before, but she came to love the latter as much as the former. To bask in it. Who would have thought! But yes, with Diego de la Vega, Victoria Escalante was beginning to discover the charms of peace and quiet.

They stood like that a few more seconds of eternity, but all too soon he reached behind his back and unclasped her hands.

"Now I really, really must go. And quick."

She sighed.

"I know," she admitted, letting go of him. "But if I may suggest... don't forget to get dressed _before_ , or this time you're sure to set tongues wagging!" she added with a wink.


	89. Ch 89 - The throes of arousal

From behind the bar, Victoria was looking at the people in her tavern. Some were chatting with friends, others were drinking alone deep in thought – really, it was only half past ten in the morning! – others were grabbing a bite before hitting the road... and over there outside, even though she couldn't see them, she knew that the de la Vegas were greeting young Leonor and her mother.

Victoria had heard the stagecoach arrive two minutes earlier and she knew that Diego and his father were probably already there. Just the day before, Don Alejandro had sounded really excited by his daughter's impending arrival, and she could understand that. Not only because she too liked this girl, but also because most of the time Don Alejandro was separated from this child of his, and her own yearning for a child helped her understand the father's yearning for his little girl's presence.

She sighed inwardly... Almost six month and still nothing! She would have never thought it would take so long. Not that she minded trying, come to think of that! Quite the contrary in fact: she had supposed thanks to hearsays that it was mainly a good and pleasant activity, but she would have never suspected before practicing it herself with Don Diego how _really_ , _very_ , _immensely_ pleasant it was. _Pleasurable_ was more the word. _Exquisite_.

 _Oh yes._ Incredibly so.

A dreamy little smile grazed her lips, but she soon tore herself from her oh-so pleasant recollections. There was work to do right now. Now was not the time for thought of slipping under bedsheets with Diego de la Vega.

Later. If he could come for siesta, for instance.

If he _wanted_ to come for siesta. After all, perhaps he simply preferred the company of his charming little sister to hers... Or perhaps he preferred the company of his sister's charming mother to hers... Forsooth, this woman was a comely lady, and Leonor was here to prove that she wasn't exactly sparing with her charms and favours when a gentle and charming caballero was around...

 _Ow_ , some sour bile uncomfortably churned in her stomach, leaving there an impression of lead settled at the pit of it.

And contrary to Victoria, Doña Araceli has also proven herself: Leonor was the living evidence that she could have children. That she could make a man a father.

But Victoria soon dispelled this thought: this would make the link between Leonor and Diego's children far too complex familialy speaking: aunt of her half-siblings, and sister of her nephews...? _No._ No, Don Diego was far too wise a man to want that.

Even to _risk_ that... right?

But whatever, it was obvious to Victoria that in men's eyes, Doña Araceli was certainly far more an appealing woman than she was herself. And Don Diego _was_ a man. A man just like the others. And she now knew that he had much to offer a woman, even regardless of his social position or of his father's wealth... Much to offer in a bed, even out of wedlock. Oooh yes, _much_ , she thought, recalling the feeling of his earlier caresses along her arms, her legs, her hips, the small of her back, of his lips against her shoulder, her neck, her ear, of his hot breath caressing her nipples, of–

 _Ow_ , she really, really should stop this train of thought, or she'd have to rush to the de la Vega hacienda even before lunchtime to corner him to his bedroom; or worse, she'd even run to the plaza where he was probably standing right now and she'd grab him to drag him to _her_ bedroom right then.

 _Oh great_ , now she was all tingling everywhere and hot all over, and all this only a few hours after he left her bed at dawn. _Damn you, Diego de la Vega! What did you do of such a normal girl like me?_

She sighed and tried to think of the dullest and coldest thing she could, to try to douse this burning physical desire in her and turn off her sudden arousal.

Alright, no more thoughts of men's _skills_ while she was at work. No more thoughts of her private time with Don Diego. Victoria looked at her patrons in the room, spotted the oldest of them and tried to imagine him naked. It didn't totally work, and it wasn't terribly respectful of poor Doctor Hernandez.

So, if not someone she found physically unattractive, perhaps someone she found morally off-putting...? She mentally pictured a naked Ignacio de Soto, but although this was a highly disturbing sight in her opinion, even this wasn't enough to stifle her arousal either.

Victoria sighed, hoping against hope that the hours till sunset would suddenly pass ten times faster and that the hands on her longcase clock would start visibly turning and spinning before her very eyes.

But no.

The hands of her parents' old clock stubbornly refused to move any faster than they had always been doing over time. Constantly and regularly so.

Victoria sighed again. And to think that, while she was stuck to her counter and to her kitchen until siesta time, Doña Araceli was perhaps already making flirtatious doe eyes at her lover!

And Diego, the poor idiot, certainly wouldn't see through her little game! Or perhaps... _perhaps it was already too late,_ a little voice said again in her mind. She had already had this disturbing idea a few weeks earlier, when Don Diego exceptionally accompanied his father to San Diego to celebrate Leonor's birthday. A two-weeks-long absence which had made her immensely frustrated, as well as inexplicably worried at the thought that Diego was staying under this woman's roof.

Yes, _perhaps she already had her wicked way with him_... Victoria couldn't help but repeat in her head what the insidious little voice had then whispered to the very frustrated part of her mind.

She closed her eyes, breathed out and pinched her lips together to chase this unpleasant idea away from her thoughts. No, he wouldn't. He was far too respectful a son to get horizontal with his father's former... _woman_.

He was, wasn't he?

Right now, Victoria would give anything to be on the plaza and keep a watchful eye on him, and on _her_. On her interaction with him.

Did anything happen six weeks earlier when he had been staying in that woman's house in San Diego, very far from her tavern and from her bed? Did Doña Araceli get lucky while she, Victoria Escalante, had been heavily sighing with unquenched burning desire alone in her cold and empty bed? Had Don Diego been having some quality time with his sister's mother while back here in Los Angeles, every fibre of her body had been desperately calling for his? For a man's caress? Did he only suspect that her frustrated intimate parts had been crying and craving for a man's ones when he had been away, after the first week he'd been gone? Did he have the slightest idea of what the second week of his absence had been like for her?

Did he know that some unknown instinct in her made her start looking at any customer roughly her age like a potential prey she might consider eating up? Well, figuratively speaking of course, though the animal and carnal pull had definitely been there...

Did Don Diego know that, because of his prolonged absence and of the thought of him under Doña Araceli's roof, she had started looking at other men like they could be... well... _men_ , and not just customers.

 _And would he only care,_ the insidious little voice said again from inside her skull.

 _Shut up!_ Victoria inwardly retorted. But the damage was done, and the question was still floating in her mind. Would he only care? What would he feel if he knew that, while he had been away, while she had been missing their voluptuous naps and nights together, she had sometimes caught herself involuntarily mentally undressing some of her handsome or well-build customers...? Would he care if he knew that she had even felt some tingles of hot attraction, some liquid arousal between her legs for a few of them?

One of them, in particular. A stranger. The prettiest face she ever had the pleasure to look at.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

He had arrived with the stagecoach and stopped off at her tavern with the other travellers, carrying on with his travel by coach the day after. Thankfully for Victoria's peace of mind and virtue, if not for her frustration, he stayed only one night. But it had been enough for her to lie awake in her bed wondering how it could be like to share bedsheets with such a Greek god. An _Adonis_ , Diego would have corrected her if he'd been there. But if he'd been there, she probably wouldn't have been thinking about this stranger's perfect features, dark strands of hair, impeccable skin, attractive buil–

 _Ahem_. Yes, hum... _well_. Alright, she had been having dreams and very womanly sensations about this stranger that night. And thanks to Don Diego's contribution, she now knew exactly what these sensations were: _arousal_. Pure and unadulterated physical arousal. But she had some excuses and extenuating circumstances for this, after all. Don Diego hadn't been here to quench the fire in her for almost two weeks, and this stranger was the most handsome man she had ever met; never before had she seen such a stunningly beautiful face on any man, and obviously enough, she wasn't the only woman around who noticed the traveller's handsome beauty. Many female appreciative looks turned to him in her tavern, either discreetly or slightly less inconspicuously so.

The man had seemed rather willing to escape this embarrassing scrutiny and Victoria thought that although he was probably used to it – well, women couldn't do otherwise than notice him, she thought – she had to pay tribute to his modesty and to his apparent desire to keep as low a profile as he could. No look at the pretty girls or women, not even a teasing smile at the taverness... and curiously this made him even more desirable in her eyes. _Ow, Victoria, he's a complete stranger to you! He could be a murderer or a relative of de Soto, for all you know!_

But whatever. As soon as he had raised his long-eyelashed deep dark eyes on her to order dinner, she had felt her lower insides get hot and liquid. He was wearing a simple travel suit on an ordinary shirt: not a caballero then, but not a peon either. Middle class, probably; a head-vaquero, a shopkeeper, something like that. He had to repeat his order for dinner, it hadn't registered the first time: Victoria's mind had trouble focusing.

"...and a room for tonight, please Señora," he added in a soft voice.

"Certainly," she answered. _Whatever you want,_ she added inwardly while she was trying to get her insides to cool down. _For God's sake, he's only a man just like any other! And one I don't even know, at that!_

On the way back to her counter she caught Señora Gomez's look glued to the handsome stranger while an almost feral smile was spreading on her lips. Oh yes, the early widow certainly wouldn't mind a piece of that! And now, Victoria couldn't condemn the woman for these thoughts: Señora Gomez was only five years older than she was, and she had been widowed for three years. Now that she had experienced carnal pleasures herself, Victoria couldn't imagine being deprived of it for three long years: Don Diego had been gone for barely twelve days and she was already having impure thoughts about a total stranger, so _three years_ of total chastity...! She couldn't imagine the daily torture Señora Gomez was probably enduring... or the strength of mind this woman had!

Yes, Señora Gomez clearly liked what she was seeing and wouldn't say no to a bite of it, and even Victoria caught herself thinking she'd have some trouble getting herself to kick him out of bed if ever Pretty Face had the unlikely idea to offer her a night with him.

But for now, the handsome stranger wasn't paying any attention to Señora Gomez. Or to Victoria either, for that matter. His attention was going from his pocket watch to his glass of wine, while he was waiting for the dinner he had ordered. And then later, after he swallowed the last bite of it he went straight to his room. Alone, and clearly intending not to do anything else in his bed than simply sleep.

The morning after at breakfast, after a rather troubled night, Victoria noticed that the man was still as handsome as the day before, still as tempting, and that she was still as physically attracted to him in broad daylight than she had felt in the loneliness of her dark and empty bedroom.

Damn Diego de la Vega, really! This was his entire fault. Before him, she had never suffered like that in the throes of an arousal she couldn't yet clearly describe anyway. But now, things were different: she knew _very_ _precisely_ what she was being deprived of. Desire really was a plague when it couldn't be satisfied, and she was really, really missing Don Diego. Very much.

Two days later when he and his father finally came back at the end of the afternoon, she barely let him get out of the stagecoach before whispering in his ear an invitation – a _'summon'?_ – to her room for the night to come.

And a few hours later he had barely crossed the threshold of Victoria's bedroom before he found himself on his back on her mattress, at the mercy of a very eager and horny taverness. But after a few surprised interjections, he seemed to accept his fate with good grace and in truth, she didn't recall hearing him emit the slightest form of protestation in the course of what followed.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

But today things were different, Victoria told herself while driving her mind back to the present. Today, some competition had arrived in Los Angeles; and Araceli Ximenez, _experienced_ as she was, and a _lady_ , and a _mother_ , certainly had assets which she, Victoria Escalante, didn't have.

On the other hand, she and Don Diego had a deal. That was something in his eyes, right?


	90. Ch 90 - Thread and needle

Totally ignorant of the troubled and slightly unquiet thoughts Victoria Escalante was having about her stay in Los Angeles and under the de la Vega's roof, Araceli slowly and carefully got out of the stagecoach, helped in that by another fellow traveller who gallantly offered his arm to her while Don Alejandro had his own arms full of an excited seven-years-old little girl who had just thrown herself at her papá as soon as she had set foot on the dusty ground of the plaza.

"Gracias Señor," Alejandro heard Araceli say. He disentangled himself from his daughter and walked to her mother, suddenly noticing that she had her hand on a stranger's forearm.

"Araceli, welcome back in Los Angeles, my dear..."

And with these words he bowed rather formally, leaned to take her free hand in his and dropped an impeccably elegant handkiss on the back of it.

"Alejandro, what a pleasure! I'm delighted to see you again so soon after last time, as well as your son."

From three feet behind his father where he had picked up Leonor in his arms for a brotherly hug, Diego bowed his head at her and politely replied:

"The pleasure is ours, Señora. Welcome back in our small pueblo."

"Gracias Don Diego."

He nodded without a word and put his sister down. As soon as she felt the ground under her feet again, she rushed to Felipe and then stopped dead in front of him, not knowing what to tell him. He smiled at her, kneeled down to face her and just like that, he landed a gentle and friendly kiss on her round and rosy cheek.

She became as mute as him, and her face turned as pink as the ribbon in her mother's hair. But Araceli wasn't paying attention to that and was chatting with the traveller who just helped her out of the coach.

"So here ends your journey, Señora," the stranger said.

"Only the outward journey" she replied. "But here it ends for you too, according to what you told me. You'll see, the inn is comfortable and the innkeeper is very welcoming," she added, pointing at Victoria's tavern.

Alejandro was still standing beside Araceli and was silently finding that she was sending a lot of toothy smiles in this stranger's way.

"Oh, but where are my manners, Señores? How rude of me, I am failing in my duty! Don Rodrigo, please meet Don Alejandro de la Vega. Alejandro, may I introduce Señor Rodrigo Guzmán, from Ensenada, who's been a delightful travel companion."

"Señor," Alejandro greeted him in a polite lip service.

"Don Alejandro," the younger man replied, "it is an honour..."

"Oh and here is Don Diego," Araceli went on, "Don Alejandro's son."

Diego liked the ease and the hint of familiarity she was having with this stranger, and he sent him a sincere smile:

"Nice to meet you, Don Rodrigo. And welcome in Los Angeles. I wish you'll have a nice stay in our pueblo."

"Muchas gracias Don Diego. I'm sure it will be: the inn seems particularly charming, and the Señora's company will make social calls particularly nice, if she agrees to grant me a few minutes of her time," he added with a smile at Araceli.

But his smile was nothing compared with Diego's inward one, while on the other hand Alejandro's facial features turned a slight bit stiff.

"And what brings you here, Señor?" he asked a bit abruptly.

"Some business matters," he simply replied, not noting Alejandro's slightly sharp tone of voice.

"Oh, really?" Diego politely said. "And how long will Los Angeles have the pleasure of your presence, Don Rodrigo?"

"I don't know yet. A fortnight, perhaps a month... or longer. I can't tell yet, it will probably depend on how the business will be going..."

"Señor Guzmán owns an important flock of sheep, and he has recently started his own spinning mill in Ensenada. How visionary, don't you think Alejandro?"

Alejandro remained unimpressed.

"And you've come more than sixty leagues north to hire workers away to your factory?" he asked a bit... briskly. "On the other hand I'm not surprised, such a business must need much workforce, and if you've seen too big a picture, I understand that you've soon come short-handed in such a small area as Ensenada itself..."

Araceli gave Alejandro a surprised funny look: she had never heard him use this almost sharp tone of voice with a perfect stranger he just met. What had just bitten him on such a nice morning?

"As a matter of fact Don Alejandro," Señor Guzmán went on without a sign that he had noted the older man's tone, "I won't need so much workforce if everything goes as I expect. I know that Ensenada isn't big and I decided to adapt the means of production to the size of its population. But without giving up the ambition for a large-scale production..."

"Oh, and how do you intent to succeed in this small feat?" Alejandro asked unctuously.

Señor Guzmán smiled in a slightly self-satisfied way, then he enthusiastically although almost mysteriously let out:

"Progress..."

Like it explained everything and was supposed to enlighten them.

"Progress?" Alejandro asked.

The man nodded.

"Progress," he confirmed. "Technology."

Alejandro raised a doubtful eyebrow. _Technology_ , uh? Another man obsessed with books and inventions, just like Diego... Another one of these stargazers, of these younger men who thought that everything which their fathers and forefathers had done was all very well and good in their time, but that their ways were now fit for the bin because it was not _modern_.

 _Modern_. Humph! Alejandro took a better look at the man and noted that he was probably in his early forties. _Modern_... _Humph, just wait until your own children think you're outdated and old-school!_

Another stargazer who believed in the sacrosanct _progress,_ nothing else...

But Araceli was a down-to-earth pragmatist, so why on earth was she sounding so excited about this guy's sweet dreams?

_Honestly!_

"Can you imagine that, Alejandro, Don Diego?" she said. "Machines spinning the wool ten times faster than a man, meaning that with a same workforce you could produce ten times more thread than before!"

"And above all," Señor Guzmán added, "the workers won't have to make their children help them with their work to go faster! The children won't have to work anymore, that's the real progress!"

Hum? Er... yes, perhaps... seen like that...

"And do you intend to have steam engines drive weaving looms too?" Diego chipped in, suddenly sounding unusually acutely interested in something.

 _Oh no,_ Alejandro thought. _Tu quoque mi fili!_

"People replaced by machines...? Are you sure that's really a progress?" he rhetorically asked his son.

"Oh, but people won't be replaced," Don Rodrigo explained, "their mechanical gestures will be, but they'll still be there; only, instead of sending a shuttle right-to-left and left-to-right all day long, instead of activating a pedal every two seconds hours long, their job will consist in looking after the machines, seeing that the wool or the threads arrive to it, inspecting the quality of the product, making sure that the furnace is fed with wood, folding and rolling the fabrics and so one: a much more varied and less mind-numbing job than before! And all this with a significant rise in the quality and quantity of the production: everyone will get something out of it!"

"Self-activated looms and spinning wheels, can you imagine that Alejandro?" Araceli enthusiastically marvelled.

But Alejandro was far from being impressed.

"I don’t exactly see the difference between fingers spending their time spinning threads of wool and fingers spending their time operating levers and handles."

"Well," Araceli retorted, "I think anyone who's already had their fingers bleeding while guiding a thread of wool or cotton being spun on a wheel will get this difference. What's got into you, you're all grouchy today! Aren't you happy to see us?"

Her own nerves were quite on edge after this two-days uncomfortable and long ride confined in a dusty and tossing stagecoach spent continuously trying to keep a seven years-old busy, so Alejandro's rather cool and critical welcome of a man who's been a perfectly proper and pleasant travel companion put the final touch to winding her up.

Alejandro's behaviour and whole attitude immediately changed: he straightened his back to his full height, plastered the most charming smile he could on his face, then he bent again to her hand and kissed it more elegantly and gentlemanly than ever. Araceli was surprised by this sudden change and display of perfect formality, but all in all she was too raddled to argue any further.

When he stood up straight again, he told her in a sweet and velvety voice:

"Of course I'm happy; seeing you and Leonor is always a real pleasure, my dear. Pease forgive my earlier unpleasant mood: I guess the keenness of seeing you two again kept me awake a bit too long and I therefore had a rather short night. I apologise to you, as well as to Señor Guzmán. I wish you a nice and pleasant stay in our pueblo, Don Rodrigo, and I hope Los Angeles will be to your liking for the duration of it. You'll see that our tavern is indeed a pleasant place to stay."

Don Rodrigo Guzmán took it as the polite dismissal it was and gracefully took his leave from Araceli and her hosts before heading to Victoria's tavern.

As he was watching the man's retreating back, Alejandro was surprised to hear Araceli ask him the most incongruous question:

"Is Señorita Escalante still running the inn?"

His eyebrows rose up to his hairline and he turned a clearly surprised face to her.

"Of course she is, I can't see any reason she'd stop or sell her business!"

 _Well, I can see one,_ Araceli thought inwardly, settling a scrutinising look on him. Hadn't the relationship between these two evolved and progressed over the course of the past six months? Araceli thought that a middle class hard-working and single woman with no family anymore to maintain her would jump at the opportunity to marry a wealthy and charming caballero to live a life of leisure and idleness and secure her old days.

But apparently, Señorita Escalante didn't. Well, come to think of that, Araceli reflected, she too turned down this opportunity when Alejandro had been disposed to marry her years ago. Even if she hadn't had this... moral slight _impediment_ which prevented her from getting married _again_ , she wouldn't have agreed to leave all which had been her life so far in San Diego, to leave the thriving business she had developed, to leave everything behind her to become a caballero's wife _again_. Been there done that, and although she liked Alejandro very much, she wouldn't have given up her life, her _real_ life in San Diego to follow him to Los Angeles, where everyone would have probably spent their time comparing her to the certainly much more proper former and late Señora de la Vega...

Or perhaps Alejandro hadn't dared go that far? Perhaps he hadn't acted on his attraction? That would be just like him! Araceli remembered that she had been the one who had to take charge at first, or he would probably have never kissed her even once!

That, or his fancy has faded and passed. Just like theirs had, some years ago. _Right...?_

Her heartbeat quickened a bit. The effect of the heat, probably. Except that it was only mid-March, and barely eleven in the morning. Bah, whatever!

She turned to her daughter and saw Leonor's gaze glued to young Felipe, while the boy's eyes were acutely fixing the tavern too. Don Diego had his hand on his sister's shoulder while he and his father were politely greeting Concepcion, and the mute servant's now pensive look then shifted to Alejandro's son. He clearly had something on his mind, and Araceli remembered that deaf and dumb as he might be, he wasn't either blind or stupid. Gears were turning and working behind this ever silent facade, and the young man would certainly have much to say about the world around him if he could talk.

But suddenly, this acute expression on his face gave way to a perfectly stupid grin and gawking look in his eyes as he gazed further across the plaza. Curious, Araceli looked too and saw a very young woman carrying a parcel accompanied with two younger boys and a simply-yet-well-dressed woman in her mid-forties who was probably her mother, according to the family likeness between them.

The mother took the parcel from her daughter and crossed the plaza to join them.

"Don Diego," she said in a pleasant voice, "buenos días! Here are the two silk shirts you asked me to make for you. But if I may, what happened to the previous one? I made one six months ago and I never saw you wear it!"

Diego had an embarrassed little smile.

"I tore it on a nail," he replied "You know how clumsy I am... that's why I ordered a pair of these, this time. But I swear I will take great care of these two, Señora!"

"Oh, you can do whatever you want with these once you've paid them, Don Diego! After all they are yours and no one else's... I won't complain: it provides us with work!"

"Still, Señora," Alejandro said, "it's not very respectful of the work you did and of your skills to ruin a shirt just after you finished it! And it's such a fine job you're doing on our clothes..."

"Gracias Don Alejandro," the woman answered with a kind smile that the man mirrored. "But, Don Diego if I may... why specifically _black_ buttons on rather simple white shirts?"

"Oh, just to give a hint of stylish extravagance to an otherwise plain-pattern shirt," Don Diego dismissively answered.

Alejandro raised his eyes to heaven but said nothing, and then he seemed to realise he had guests.

"Leonor," he told his daughter, "do you remember Señora Duarte, who made the nice dress you're currently wearing?"

"Of course I do, Papá!" the child answered. "Buenos días Señora Teresa," she politely said, "I am glad to see you again."

"And I am glad too to see such a well-mannered young Señorita again," the seamstress kindly replied.

"Mamá, she's the lady who made the dresses for me!" Leonor informed her mother.

Alejandro decided to make more formal introductions:

"Señora, may I introduce Señora Ximénez de Valdès? Araceli, this is Señora Duarte, a very skilled seamstress whose fingers make wonders, and who can also drive a hard bargain as far as business is concerned, as our dear alcalde experienced..." Alejandro added with a smile aimed at Señora Duarte.

But the older lady had tensed a bit when she faced Araceli and although the smile she gave to Don Alejandro was genuine, the one she had for Araceli was much more strained.

"Nice to meet you, Señora," Teresa nonetheless politely said out of sheer courtesy.

"It's a pleasure, Señora, to meet such a gifted artist: you managed to make my daughter absolutely love her outfits, and I thank you for this; that's quite a feat you know, but the fact that she can play almost any child game without hindrance and also ride her new horse without having to get changed first probably has a part in it!" Araceli winked at her. "Thank you for her, and congratulations."

Teresa nodded her thank at the praise, and looked at the child, noting that she was wearing the dress Elvira made for her.

"Thank you Señora, but I must confess that I only made her blouse and her skirt: this dress is all my daughter's doing."

"Then my congratulations go both to you and to this young lady," Araceli gracefully replied.

"Papá, Mamá," Leonor cut in, "can we go home now? I'd like to play a game of chess with Felipe..."

Hearing his daughter call his hacienda 'home' made Alejandro's day, so he forgot to reprimand her for the rather rude interruption. And he was happy to comply, so he very politely took his leave from the seamstress, promised something about coming for a fitting later and offered his right arm to Araceli as well as his left hand to their daughter.


	91. Ch 91 - Conception

The next day, Diego knew just by the sight of Victoria's slightly dejected face and of her rather slumped and stooped bearing that once more had come the proof that they still hadn't conceived.

It cast a shadow over his own mood and when his eyes met hers, they didn't have to tell each other anything. She offered him a poor little smile and he forced himself to mirror it, for fear she thought that she was just a breeder to him in this strange relationship they had, nothing else than a womb in his eyes.

Six months...

Six months of rather intensively trying.

They couldn't.

Apparently, they just couldn't.

He sighed inwardly. All these years he had postponed things, thinking it would still be time for that later, that it was just delayed, that he'd know the happiness or fatherhood _later_ , and finally he apparently was unable to make a child.

Unable to fulfil Victoria's fondest wish. After making her wait years and years he was failing her. After scuppering her attempt at marriage with Juan Ortiz as well as her hopes for a real family life with that man and with the children she would have had with him, he was unable to provide her with these children she so fervently longed for.

If their attempts kept failing, Victoria probably thought she'd still have a small chance at starting a family with Zorro once he removes the mask – if ever such a thing happens – but Diego knew that of course, if he was infertile, then the man under Zorro's mask couldn't give her children either.

And he had made her waste all these years in vain. For nothing.

These morose thoughts overwhelmed him and he let himself fall on a bench in the tavern more than he actually _sat_ down on it.

Or perhaps there was something they were doing technically wrong? Well they couldn't really ask anyone about that, right? They couldn't even tell anyone in Los Angeles that they were having this kind of relationship, so he couldn't knock on the door of the largest family of the pueblo and ask the parents how they managed to have so many children!

They couldn't go see the doctor either: in small communities, doctor-patient privilege was a rather relative notion. As soon as someone was seen entering the doctor's office, tongues started wagging in Los Angeles and even before he or she got out of there everyone soon knew the embarrassing fact that Señor Gonzales had recurrent diarrhea or that Señora Gomez certainly got some shameful disease from her husband... so if anyone spots a bachelor go to the doctor's office with a single lady friend of his, he wouldn't be long putting two and two together! And now just add in that mix the sheer love people had for gossiping...

As a last resort, Diego might still ask someone he knew and trusted more than himself, but he really couldn't imagine going to his father and ask him technical details about how he happened to get Doña Araceli pregnant without even meaning to!

He made a face: _eew!_

He couldn't help a joyless chuckle at the sheer irony of it all. When he was a young boy, just like anyone he learned how babies were made. Then some years later in Spain, as a young man he learned about ways to _avoid_ making a baby. He had then thought his knowledge of the subject was complete, but now he just discovered that he was still ignoring the main thing: how to _actually_ make a child for sure.

But more probably, he was simply infertile.

So, how long before Victoria realises it, puts an end to their deal and asks another man to give her this family she longed for?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria went to Diego's table. There were many other patrons nearby.

"Buenos días Don Diego," she greeted him aloud, putting a slightly strained cheerful tone in her voice.

"Buenos días Victoria," he kindly replied. "What is there for lunch, today?" he casually asked.

"Pork tamales," she answered evenly.

"Perfect," he said, "tamales I will have, then."

She went back to her kitchen knowing that he knew, and that he knew that she knew. She saw it all in his eyes. And in the curve of his lips in the kind little smile he offered her. Such an understanding man!

It was making it even more painful to disappoint him once more. Poor Diego! She had involved him in this clandestine affair made of backdoor – _literally!_ – trysts, and had drawn him to her bed with the promise of a child; and so far she had turned out to be unable to fulfil this expectation...

How long before he changes his mind and turns to another woman to make him a father? Icy dread fell down to the pit of her stomach and settled there at the sudden thought of Diego calling it quits between them.

How would she do without him? He had gradually become essential to her, without her even realising it. And not only for the... the _obvious_. No. She had also gotten used to spending more time with him. Just the two of them. And she liked that. Even these past months, she had eventually come to take him and their rendezvous for granted.

And now reality hit hard: he might not have what he had been hoping with her, and she'd have to let him go. She couldn't have him waste his life and his time with a woman he didn't love just for the sake of keeping his word.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Papá, you should have seen me! Last week Mamá let me ride the horse she gave me for my birthday all by myself, and it was so great! I love Blanca Luna, he's a wonderful horse!"

The rest of the family had joined Diego for some refreshment at the tavern. Alejandro smiled at his daughter's enthusiasm for horse riding. He just hoped that contrary to her older brother, Leonor would still have it as a grown up.

"You're right mi amor," he replied, "Blanca Luna is an exceptional horse indeed, and that is a really wonderful present she gave you when she offered you her own horse... and her favourite one!"

He looked at Araceli and smiled sweetly at her.

"But," he went on turning suddenly very serious, "it is a gift for a child who has now reached the age of reason. It means that you are believed to be responsible enough to be trusted with it, and to make a sensible use of it."

"Papá means a _prudent_ use of it," Araceli clarified for her daughter.

He looked at her for a split second and turned back to their daughter.

"Exactly," he simply said. "A _wise_ use of it. And," he added, "this is not a toy: Blanca Luna is a living creature, and you now have responsibility of it when you are riding it."

"And responsibility of yourself too," Araceli cut in. "Be extra careful, don't do anything foolish or even remotely dangerous! He is a real full-grown horse, and anyway Papá and I both agreed that you are NOT to ride him alone out of the paddock. Understood?"

The little girl pouted a bit but nodded.

"We're serious," Alejandro added. "There is NO WAY you'd go alone for a ride, Leonor. You may have reached the age of reason, but you're still a young child, and I will be the judge of whether or not you're trained and skilled enough for riding Blanca Luna alone out of home. For your own safety. Comprendes?"

"Si Papá," a little voice answered.

"For your own safety," Araceli repeated after Alejandro, "...and for your Mamá's peace of mind!" she admitted.

Alejandro gave her a sidelong look and couldn't help a chuckle.

"Si Mamá," Leonor said.

And just like that, she threw her arms around Araceli's neck and kissed her mother's cheek fondly, then she did the same with her father.

"Gracias Mamá, gracias Papá," she told them with a large and happy grin, while Alejandro thought back of the horse they had just been discussing. An exceptional animal indeed... and Leonor didn't even know how much related to her it was! Come to think of that, it was only logical that Araceli chose to give Blanca Luna to their daughter, in fact. Perhaps she had had that in mind ever since the day she saw this horse as a foal...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Alejandro was riding back home from Don Virgilio's, alone on the dirt path leading to his own hacienda. He was wondering whether the mailcoach would bring him a letter from Diego; he hadn't received news from him in quite some time and was fearing that the excitement and entertainment Madrid had to offer to such a young man had him forget a bit about the rest. About his fencing lessons with Sir Edmund for instance; or about writing to his faraway and lonely father._

Well _, Alejandro reflected, to be honest he was truly lonely only three weeks a month... The fourth week, he was generally heading south to San Diego. But his son really didn't need to know_ that, _did he?_

_He hoped Diego was being serious with his lessons over there in Spain. He hoped that he didn't spend his time boisterously drinking in taverns or gallivanting here and there. And he hoped that he wasn't following the example of some of his fellow young students who spent their time gambling or charming women just for fun and pleasure._

Ahem _. As for women... well, perhaps himself wasn't completely lily-white either in that regard... But even though a very small twinge of guilt came to him at this thought, Alejandro let a dreamy and slightly goofy smile curve his lips:_ six months... _he could hardly believe it had been already six months. Six months of perfect and passionate liaison, six months since Araceli and him fully plunged in this affair._

 _Six months. It was hard to believe: on the one hand it seemed to be yesterday that they first shared a night for the first time, and on the other hand it seemed like forever that they had been.... er..._ consorting _with each other. He let out a happy sigh: it was absolutely ridiculous, but when he was with her, or even only when he was just_ thinking _of her, he was feeling as if he was thirty again. Or even less._

 _Of course he still knew how old he really was, and how old_ she _was, but whenever he was with her, her mere presence was making him momentarily forget about this rather unpleasant knowledge. He wasn't stupid, he knew that they would eventually put an end to this casual fling, but in the mean time it was being so nice, so charming! That was all he wanted to think about, for the moment._

 _He was roused from his pleasant daydream by another swerve from his mare; Dulcinea was being a bit difficult lately, since he last came back from San Diego two weeks ago, but this time she soon totally stopped in the middle of the path and opposed a foursquare refusal to his orders of_ 'hup!' _and_ 'giddy up!'

_"Come on, girl, what's wrong with you?"_

_But she only left the path and walked a few feet away from it around a boulder, despite his attempts at steering her back on the right track. He dismounted and grabbed the reins to drag her back on the dirt road, but he started when he caught sight of a dark shadow emerging from the bushes He stopped dead and looked at it. Before his eyes was now the most magnificent black stallion he had ever seen – and he had seen quite a lot of horses in his life!_

_Alejandro soon understood that he shouldn't wait for the stallion's rider to show up since the horse wasn't saddled. He then tried to see whether there was any mark which would help him identify the animal's owner, but there was none to be seen on the horse deep black and shiny fur._

_Alejandro prudently took a few steps closer to the stallion but he soon had to stop when the horse kicked and then eared up._

_"All right, all right," he mumbled, "you're quite a nervous boy, aren't you? Don't worry, I mean no harm..."_

_But the horse reared up again and Alejandro had to prudently beat a retreat and step back. At least, this enabled him to notice two things about the unknown stallion._

_The first one was that this animal wasn't wearing any horseshoe. No saddle, no mark, and now no horseshoe..._ A wild horse? _Alejandro marvelled. Or perhaps it was a runaway horse, a formerly domestic horse who had returned to the wild months or years ago._

_The second thing Alejandro noted was that the stallion was obviously rutting..._

_So_ that _was why Dulcinea had been so difficult lately! She was on heat! Alejandro thought that he must have had his mind very much otherwise occupied for not having taken notice of that. And he dared pretend he was a true lover of horses!_

 _Alejandro suddenly remembered the tacit promise he made to Araceli a little more than one year earlier:_ 'Now, _I_ want her first foal,' _she had written._ 'Choose the sire like you would have for yourself.'

_Well, she didn't imply that the sire should belong to him, after all. Or to anyone for that matter. And what better choice than this absolutely magnificent stallion?_

_Anyway, for the time being the two horses clearly had something on their mind and fully intended to get through with it, and Alejandro wasn't foolish enough to try on his own to fight against an aroused spirited mare on heat and a rutting wild horse._

_"All right, all right, girl," he said, "just let me rid you of your saddle..."_

_And while he loosened the bridles, Dulcinea and her new 'beau' started sniffing and smelling each other, as well as nuzzling each other's neck – and other parts. Alejandro removed the saddle and put it down on a rock. Then he encouragingly patted both his mare and the stallion as they finally got down to it, and seeing that they were getting by very fine without his help, he just leaned on the boulder and let them do their little business._

_When they were finished, Alejandro went to the stallion who let him approach and he patted his neck again._

_"Good, good boy. I hope we'll meet again, moreno: I own many other mares, you know..."_

_The black horse just trotted away as Alejandro went to Dulcinea._

_"But you're right," he shouted at the stallion's dark retreating form: "this one is indisputably the most beautiful of all!"_

_Then he turned to Dulcinea and patted her neck again._

_"And you, naughty little minx, haven't gotten out of your way for just any stallion, have you? You had to choose the most beautiful one... Good girl!" He tousled her mane playfully. "You're just like your former owner after all: you have excellent taste!" he added with a chuckle._

_Then he saddled her again, hoping that this one time would be enough and that it would work. Just in case, he kept a very slow and careful pace for the rest of the ride home, and then he settled her comfortably in her stall before finally entering his house._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_As soon as Alejandro set foot inside, Felipe handed him a pile of envelopes. The mail! He eagerly perused through it but Felipe's little hand stopped his large one to get his attention, and then he shook his head when he saw that his patròn was looking at him. Alejandro immediately understood: none of these letters came from Diego._

_He was a bit disappointed but gave the child a gentle little smile._

_"He is very busy with his studies, you know..." he very slowly and articulately told the boy. "It does not mean that he does not think about you or me..."_

_Felipe nodded a bit sadly, but then he smiled again when he took out an ivory envelope from under the pile and handed it to the older man. He had already noticed that these ivory envelopes always cheered up his patròn, even though he still hadn't fathomed why, so he hoped that this one would make up for Diego's short silence._

_"Gracias Felipe," Alejandro said, affectionately tousling the boy's hair before retreating to his study to open his mail._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Standing in the middle of the room right beside his desk, Alejandro was staring fixedly at the sheet of paper in his hands._

Oh no!

_Oh no no no no no! What a catastrophe!_

_Oh no... It couldn't be, they had always–_

_Oh, Santa Madre de Dios, what had he done!_

_All the blood drained from his face and his heart fell to the pit of his stomach when he fixedly stared at the word his eyes had stopped on, making his mind unable to process any thought other than_ 'oh no' _and_ 'what have I done' _._

_A very simple eight-letter word._

'Pregnant' _._


	92. Ch 92 - The white gloves

  _Alejandro was riding hell for leather, with the setting sun on his right side. Soon it would be night and he wouldn't reach any pueblo before dark. Didn't matter, he already knew it would be the case: he'd just find shelter in some cave, he had brought with him what was needed for that; after all, he had slept under the stars multiple times in his youth, during his time in the army!_

  _He had hit the road almost as soon as he received Araceli's letter, not waiting for the day after's dawn to leave. He hadn't taken his Dulcinea this time, in case she was in foal: he knew he'd ask a lot from his mount in this ride to San Diego, so he chose another of his horses. And indeed he was pushing the poor thing a bit hard and the horse was now slowing, struggling and snorting._

_As he was riding, snippets of Araceli's missive were coming back to Alejandro's mind. Well, he had read it four or five time – to be sure, or to help the news to sink in, to register – so full parts of it were now ringing inside his mind like an echo with Araceli's voice, just as if she had pronounced these words instead of writing them._

'...only suspected last time you were here and I didn't want to tell anything about this before it was a sure thing...'

_Was it only two weeks since he last was there? It now seemed so, so far ago... another time, another life... A time when he was still seeing San Diego as a bubble of insouciance, carefreeness and lightheartedness in his otherwise very serious and well-ordered life._

_But all this was_ before _. Now, the bubble has burst, shattered by a mere letter. Funny how a simple piece of paper with some curvy scribbling of ink on it can change a life in just a few minutes!_

'...midwife confirmed my suspicions...'

_Poor Araceli, she must be lost and devastated, Alejandro thought. And angry, too. At him. Oh Dios, what had he done? She had trusted him, had entrusted him with herself, body and soul – well,_ body _only – and he failed. Lamentably so._

'...I am pregnant with our child.'

_Oh, Dios, Dios! How on earth did that happen...?_

_Well, basically, he knew_ how _that happened, but what he meant was..._ how _did that happen? Technically speaking...?_

_Of course they had been intimate quite a good number of times, he thought with a slightly goofy smile on his lips for the first time since he opened her letter several hours earlier in the morning. Dios, was it only the same day that he had been so happy to find a letter from her, so disappointed not to find one from Diego, and so thrilled at the idea of the certainly magnificent foal he might soon offer Araceli as a payment for Dulcinea...? All this seemed so far ago, like another life... almost a remote past._

_How did that happen? They had been careful, he thought. He had always... er..._ done the gentlemanly thing, _the one a man had to do when with a woman who was not his wife..._

_Well, not the safest and most reliable method after all, it seemed._

_He sighed. What a mess! Alright, playtime was over now, and reality was hitting them hard... Well, he knew what he had to do, in fact it was even the only thing he knew in all this thorny matter! He had packed quickly and light, but there was one thing he made sure not to forget to put in his bag and bring with him: a pair of white gloves. He checked twice before leaving._

_He sighed again: really, what had he put himself into!_

_And Diego! What would he say when his father writes him about this all? Alejandro had a shudder of dread: his son's opinion was really important to him, and there was little to no chance that Diego would take the news very well... And so much for the many fatherly recommendations and advices Alejandro had overwhelmed his son with before he sent his boy to the big city and its many temptations!_

'...due around late January or early February.'

_And her parents!? What would they say, what would they do? Would her father challenge him to a duel anyway? No, Alejandro reasoned, even an outraged father didn't challenge to a swordfight a man who was willing to repair, right? And anyway, Araceli was a widow, which was to say_ her own woman _. Her wedding had emancipated her from her parents' guardianship, and her legal separation had set her free from her husband's authority and tutelage, even before his death. In the eyes of the law as well as of most people, she was the one who was now entitled to take any decision for herself, and didn't have a guardian anymore. But Alejandro wasn't sure that Señor Ximénez would see things the same way: after all, a father was a father forever, he was well placed to know that; and if anyone wronged Diego, then may the Lord have mercy on them!_

_But thankfully Diego was a man, which meant that he would settle the matter himself and not need his father to do so. But if Diego had been a girl and not a boy..._

_If Diego had been a girl, a little voice went on inside Alejandro's mind, then this girl would now be almost Araceli's age..._

_He winced. Alright, Señor Ximénez had every reason to be very, very angry at him. And Alejandro decided he would take any reproach and blame her father could have in store for him, and suck it up like a man. Anything,_ everything _for Araceli. He owed it to her._

_He sighed again. Really not the turn he had ever imagined his life and old days would take. But what was done was done, now was not the time to try to find a way out of it. He had made his bed, so he now had to lie in it. He had poured the wine, now he had to drink this chalice to the lees._

_"Ho... oh..." Alejandro said to calm his horse who had snorted and zigzagged across the road to show his refusal of going any further. It was clearly knackered, and Alejandro admitted that he was not far behind his mount on that._

_"You're right, old boy, it's too dark now. Come, I'll find us a shelter in these hills with a lovely little stream of clear water nearby, and I'll set a nice bonfire..."_

_Indeed, while Alejandro was losing himself in his inner thoughts the sun had almost completely sank down over there in the ocean beyond the plains, and the night would soon be there._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_As soon as he arrived in San Diego, Alejandro galloped straight to Araceli's house. He had worn his poor horse out on the way and his mount now was the worse for wear. In a flash of lucidity, it occurred to Alejandro that he probably wasn't looking much better, and indeed he felt rather exhausted. And dirty. He couldn't decently show himself to Araceli in that sorry state. Especially in these circumstances._

_He therefore steered his horse to a nearby brook he knew, where the poor beast could drink some water while Alejandro had a rapid wash to look a bit tidier and cleaner. Then he pulled the suit and shirt he had brought with him out of his saddle bag and got changed._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"Alejandro?" Araceli exclaimed with surprise from her sala when young Anibal opened the door for him._

_He took off his hat and stepped inside._

_"Is that really you?" Araceli said again, getting to her feet and putting down on the table the quill she had just been writing with when he knocked. In her surprise, she almost knocked down the inkwell and spilled its content on her account book._

_"You weren't due so soon after your last soj–"_

_She stopped dead. "Oh..." she then said as her features completely changed from shock to comprehension. "Oh... I gather you've already received my letter, then..."_

_She walked to him and with a gesture of her hand she invited him further in._

_"Gracias Anibal," she told the child. "You may leave now. Go have a strawberry in the kitchen, Concepcion told me there are some..."_

_"Oh, gracias Doña Araceli, muchas gracias!" the boy said with shiny eyes while she smiled sweetly at his eagerness._

_And he all but ran off to the kitchen, leaving them alone in the room._

_Araceli raised her right hand for Alejandro to kiss it, and he bowed and did as expected. With a slightly shaky hand, though. After this she simply put her lips on his for another sort of kiss, a more intimate and rather heated kiss, like nothing was out of the ordinary, like this visit was just like any other._

_Except that he knew that everything was different._

_After this pleasant welcome she didn't say anything else and walked back to the table where she closed her account book._

_"I was in the middle of something but I can defer..." she said, turning back to face him again. "Did you have a nice ride? You look a bit tired."_

_How could she be so calm? How could she be making such idle talk?_

_"Can I offer you something to drink?" she added conversationally. "Oh, sorry: please have a seat, it seems the travel has worn you out."_

_He still hadn't said anything. He was looking at her. She looked incredibly... normal. Just like usual. His is eyes trailed across her belly: it too looked absolutely normal; there was no way to guess that–_

_Well, of course! What had he expected? That in the fortnight that had passed since he last saw her, her belly would have swelled like a balloon? Yet he was surprised at how normal she was still looking. Nothing different. And no baby bump yet. It didn't help him become fully aware of the reality of what she wrote in this letter. He was still grasping for anything that would make things concrete and tangible,_ real _in a way; and instead of that this child was remaining very abstract to him, a_ notion _more than a hard fact._

_And yet he knew, his_ mind _knew, but his heart and soul still had trouble fully realising it._

_"Alejandro...? Don't you want to sit down? You are looking... I don't know... a bit..."_

_Araceli paused._

_"I know it's quite something to take in," she went on. "I think you should drink something after this long travel. I'll have Anibal bring us some lemonade or even some wine. You're awfully silent, the dust of the road must have parched your throat and mouth. And for Heaven's sake, have a seat! You're all stiff and tense after this horseride."_

_But Alejandro didn't sit down. He didn't even move from the spot where he had been standing since she offered him her hand to kiss, since she gave him a tender lover's welcome kiss._

_He didn't say anything either. Not yet. Instead, he looked at her, straightened his back even more, then he slowly took out of his jacket's pocket his pair of white gloves and started slipping them on. Araceli looked at him, rather puzzled it seemed._

_Once both gloves were on his hands, he drew in a deep breath, inwardly told himself again that he had to do this, gritted his teeth and finally spoke the words that only three days ago he would have never thought he'd pronounce a second time in his life:_

_"Araceli..."_

_He paused and cleared his throat. Indeed, his throat and mouth were dry, but he was quite sure the dust was not the main reason. He swallowed._

_"Araceli, would you make me the greatest honour of accepting me as your husband, by granting me your hand in marriage and accepting mine in return?"_

_Alright. That was said. He let out a discreet sigh and looked at her._

_And he was rather surprised by what he saw._

_In front of him but roughly fifteen feet away, still standing beside the table, Araceli looked clearly taken aback. Dumbstruck. Gobsmacked._

_She blinked. Twice._

_Well, Alejandro wondered, what did he do wrong? He had put on a nice suit– granted it was not a very formal one, but still – he had cleaned himself up from the dirt and dust of the ride, he had put on the customary white gloves, and he had phrased his words very carefully._

_Then why was she looking so... apprehensive? Almost..._ afraid? _Why was she gaping at him, and at his marriage proposal? It was not as though they had much choice anyway..._

_There was no other option. Marriage was somehow compulsory now, whether they wanted it or not..._

_Araceli seemed to recover her wits and closed her mouth, only to open it and speak just after:_

_"Alejandro... I think we need to calm down and discuss this baby composedly."_

_Yes, the voice of reason._

_"You're right, as always," he replied. "Of course it will need some adjustment, but I will arrange for things to be ready for you and for the baby back home in my hacienda. I'll do my best to have everything ready before the wedding. And of course the padre won't be too happy with–"_

_"Alejandro!"_

_He paused and looked at her._

_"Stop this, will you?" she said._

_Stop what?_

_"Did you miss the part about us_ discussing _the situation calmly and_ composedly _?"_

_He looked at her blankly._

_"Alejandro, I know I should be tactful to tell you this, but in fact the sooner this idea leaves your troubled and very proper mind, the better: Alejandro, there will be no wedding, because there will be no marriage."_

_It was his turn to be dumbstruck and to blink at her._

What?

_On the way from Los Angeles, when he had been rehearsing what he would say and how he would phrase his compulsory proposal, he had been trying to imagine her reaction. Either she would be relieved and would thank him for taking his responsibility and getting her out of the dire situation they had both put her into. Or she would tell him that she loved him and eagerly accept his proposal. Or on the contrary, she'd make a long face and finally resign herself with a heavy sigh to spend the brightest years of her woman's life tending to an old fogey of a husband until death did them part..._

_But never once did he envision a refusal from her part._

_He frowned and looked at his shoes, thinking hard._

_"Am I_ that _old...?" was all he finally and softly let out._

_"What?" she asked. "No! Well I mean... I mean that's not... That's not about your age, Alejandro..."_

_She paused._

_He thought hard. Not about his age, really? Curiously it wasn't very heart-warming._

_"If it's not about my age," he told her barely above murmur, "it's about me, then..."_

_"Alejandro, please look at me..."_

_Was her voice slightly... begging?_

_"Alejandro... I don't mean to hurt you or your feelings... I swear."_

_He raised his eyes up to her. She smiled at him._

_"I just don't want to get married. Ever again. My life is here, my business is here... Already twice in my life have I left almost everything behind me and started a new life from scratch. First when my husband's family bought a small hacienda for him and he decided we'd settle there in San Juan Capistrano; I had to leave Monterey and the friends and acquaintances I had there, and above all, my family! Then, when we got separated: I left him and San Juan as well as our acquaintances there for another town, and I settled here in San Diego. And I made new acquaintances again, built a business, and made a name for myself. But I won't leave all this behind me once more, Alejandro. I won't give up everything I have built. I love this life, and I love my job; I love the idea of having a job, and earning a living out of it without having to be maintained. I don't want to be a kept woman living off her rich husband anymore. And I won't renounce the freedom I gained through widowhood. You're a man, you cannot understand so I won't ask you to. I'm just asking you to accept."_

_She finally walked to him and gently laid a hand on his tense arm._

_"Your acceptation of my many quirks means a lot to me..."_

_She squeezed his arm._

_"But I am sorry, I decline your kind and beautiful marriage proposal, Alejandro."_

_She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his._

_"Please, say something..."_

_Say something? But what did she want him to say? That her refusal didn't hurt his feelings? It did. That his manly pride wasn't wounded? It was. That he was alright with the idea of not marrying the woman who was bearing his child? He wasn't._

_That he was a bit heartsore at her refusal? But to tell her that, he would first have to admit it to himself._

_Instead, he simply snaked his arms around her and embraced her. Raising his head a bit, he dropped a light kiss on her forehead. He was at a loss. If she didn't marry him, if she didn't marry anyone, how was she envisioning things for herself? For her situation? For_ their _situation?_

_For the child?_

_He let go of her but didn't really step back._

_His gaze slowly went down to her middle and settled there, fascinated by the invisibility of the greatest changes in life._

_With a shaking finger, he hesitantly pointed at her belly._

_"But the... the child?" he asked her. "What do you... what will we... how will–"_

_He paused when she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it to her flat belly._

_"That's precisely what I meant by 'discussing tings calmly and composedly', Alejandro," she replied, gently putting her other hand on his cheek for a soft caress. "Don't panic, please. It's wonderful news, all in all. No?"_

Wonderful? _He wasn't sure. But_ inconvenient, _oh yes it was. He closed his eyes. There, against his hand was his child, nested somewhere inside Araceli's warmness. Lucky little fellow!_

_And slowly, it came to him._ Realisation _. This child wasn't totally abstract to him anymore, even though it was still not fully tangible. Deep down, Alejandro felt that something was happening in himself, like a previously closed door being very slowly set ajar..._

_"But of course, I don't want you to engage in this against your will," Araceli went on. "I'm asking only one thing, Alejandro: if you're in with me in that matter, then you're to be_ fully _in: no back out in a few months or years. But I don't want to trap you into something you don't want: you're free to back out_ now _if you–"_

_"NO!" he sharply said. "No," he repeated in softer tones of voice, "I'm with you in this, Araceli. And with my child."_

_"OUR child, Alejandro. Our child."_

_Again he lowered his gaze to her middle, and then he slowly and softly ran his hand over her belly. A new life was already there... Even though no one could see it, it was truly there, it truly existed. Hidden to the view of every one. That was probably why he had had trouble fully realising it at first: people all have a Saint-Thomas side in them, fully believing only what was visible. The knowledge wasn't enough, they had to see, to touch; many of them had to see a baby-bump to consider the baby itself. Until that, it seemed like an easily forgettable notion._

_He ran his hand again across her midriff. Their child..._

_Incredible. A miracle._ Their _miracle._

_He slowly kneeled down and without a word, he fondly and reverently kissed this belly. Then he rested his forehead against it and murmured:_

_"I'm in with you. You have my word."_

_Was it addressed to Araceli or to her child? There was no way to tell. To both, perhaps?_

_After that, he stood up straight again and took her right hand in his to kiss it as fondly and reverently as he had just kissed her flat stomach. Then just like that, he enfolded her in his arms, gazed at these shiny and deep dark eyes he had always been unable to resist, leaned forward to her lips and very thoroughly kissed her._

_Alright. Everything would be alright. And indeed, here in each other's arms and with their child between them, everything was already alright. She turned down his marriage proposal? Alright, he couldn't force her anyway. He was kissing her, she was kissing him back, pressed against him, so everything was feeling absolutely alright._

_And after all... he still had a few months to perhaps make her change her mind...?_

_But on the other hand her refusal was making him feel deep down something he didn't want to admit, something he wasn't proud of, something he didn't even imagine during his ride as he didn't thought Araceli would turn his generous offer down; something that had been overshadowed by the shock and slight hurt of her answer to his proposal, something his wounded pride at being turned down had very conveniently hidden. A hint of something he hated discovering in him, a hint of something he'd rather ignore. A hint of something which showed him that there was some dose of cowardice in him. A hint of something he was feeling rather shameful about, a hint of something her unexpected answer triggered in him, a hint of something that her refusal of his proposal to right his wrongs released in him:_

Relief.


	93. Ch 93 - A man's man

"Diego, it's been quite some time since we last invited Victoria to have dinner here with us, don't you think?" Alejandro asked in a falsely casual tone of voice.

Diego raised his eyes from the certainly very boring medical book he was currently reading, his look meeting Araceli's sharply acute one on the way to his father's face.

"Hmm?" he replied, sounding rather unconcerned, "it's not been so long, in fact. You invited her three weeks ago, if I remember well..."

Alejandro held back a sigh: this boy, really! Couldn't he see a bit further than the tip of his nose or the pages of his books, for once? Sometimes you'd think he wasn't even remotely interested in Victoria. In fact Alejandro might have thought his past interest for drawing portraits of Victoria had just been the expression of some passing fancy or fleeting crush from his part, if he hadn't seen the looks in Diego's eyes when she wasn't looking at him, and when he thought no one was seeing him. Sometimes wistful, sometimes tender, sometimes admiring, sometimes sweet and affectionate, sometimes clearly lustful and concupiscent...

Alejandro recognised these signs, and their combination forged his conviction: his son was in love with Victoria Escalante, and despite his fatherly discreet little help to destiny, all the progress he had witnessed in six month since he became aware of Diego's inclination was that his son was spending more time at the tavern than before. But nothing else: he didn't ask Victoria for her permission to court her, didn't even tried his hand at unofficially wooing her, didn't so much as took her out for a walk. He wouldn't have even so much as asked her to grant him a dance at the last pueblo's party and ball if his father hadn't prompted him to do so!

Appallingly hopeless... His son was probably the most proper man around, but here Diego was pushing the virtue a bit too far! It had come to the point that he could perhaps spend a whole night out of the pueblo with a young girl in the hills or a secluded house without the lady's reputation to suffer from it! People would just suppose that they had been kept there by a storm or a problem with a horse, and no one would even imagine anything unseemly crossed his mind during that time!

Well, of course Alejandro preferred a virtuous son to a totally depraved one, but here he almost regretted that Diego wasn't a bit more... _interested_ in that matter. Well, at least just as much as any other man his age! That way he would have tried his chance at wooing Victoria months and maybe years ago, then! And who knows, she might have liked being courted, and perhaps Alejandro would now have a charming daughter-in-law he loved dearly and grandchildren around him!

"I'm going to invite her for tomorrow's dinner," he stated. "That's a good idea, don't you think Diego?"

_Not really, no,_ Diego inwardly thought. Because when Victoria had dinner at home, his father always asked him to escort her back to the tavern afterwards. Which in theory could be a great excuse for him to indeed leave the hacienda and ride to the tavern at night – and spend the night in Victoria's bed – if not for his father to systematically wait for his return before going to bed, and each and every time asking him if Victoria had seemed happy, what they had talked about, if he had escorted her to her door, whether they talked a bit inside the tavern before he left, etc.

Really, why this need to make sure that Diego was safely back home before going to bed, and why this interest for his subjects of conversation with Victoria?!

So when Victoria was invited at the hacienda, Diego was sure they wouldn't hit the mattress together that night, unless he rode back to the pueblo once his father was finally in bed... But considering the fact that he had to leave the pueblo before dawn, that made awfully short nights. And Zorro was already taking much of his sleeping hours, so...

"Oh yes, Papá, that's a good idea: Señorita Victoria is kind, she often gives me an apple or an orange or even cherries before I leave whenever you or Diego take me to her tavern!"

Araceli slowly closed her eyes and– did she clench her jaw...? Tooth ache, perhaps? Or headache? Stomach pains?

"Are you alright, Araceli?" Alejandro asked her. "Is anything wrong, my dear?"

"Hmm?" she let out, turning to him. "No, no, everything is alright," she answered.

She turned back to her daughter and fondly stroked her hair, with a sweet but slightly strained little smile, Alejandro thought.

"Mamá, can you come with me to the garden? I'll show you the small lilac I planted with Diego last November. Perhaps it's already blooming! I hope it is, I look forward to see its first flowers..."

Araceli smiled.

"Impatient, uh?" she teased her daughter. "Alright, let's go there and show me your lilac, mi gatita."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Father...?" Diego said five minutes after his sister and Araceli left the room, raising his nose from the book he had been engrossed in.

"Hmm?" Alejandro distractedly replied, not tearing his eyes from the letter he was currently writing.

"Do you remember that time I was ill around Christmas time, back when I was sixteen...?"

"Hmm...?" he repeated, "what are you–?"

"Remember, that time when I had to stay in bed for days, the year I couldn't even go to Midnight Mass...?"

"Oh, yes! Of course I remember," Alejandro said with a wince. "At first I almost feared it was the flu... Old Juan Pedrigo had died of it a few weeks earlier, as well as his ten-years-old granddaughter... poor family! And I got rather worried for you, even though I hid it from you. I felt relieved when it turned out to be only tonsillitis or otitis..."

"Hmm..." Diego simply said. "Well, about that..."

He paused, seemingly hesitant.

His father looked at him with some scrutiny.

"So what...?" he finally asked his son, rather puzzled.

What did Diego have in mind, now?

He saw his son look right and left, as if he was making sure no one else was around.

"Well," Diego finally told him, "what if... what if it hadn't been tonsillitis...?"

Alejandro's eyebrows rose high on his forehead. So what? It happened years and years ago, and anyway he had fully recovered in a few days afterwards, so whatever it was, it was of no importance by now!

But Diego raised the heavy book he had been reading, and he simply told his father, lowering his voice in case someone was within earshot:

"What if in fact it was mumps...?"

Alejandro looked at his son.

"What makes you think it could have been that?"

Again, Diego showed the book, as though it contained the answers to everything.

"All the symptoms match," he answered.

Alejandro really wondered what prompted this sudden questioning in his son.

"And so what? It's all water under the bridge, now. Why do you suddenly wonder about that time?"

Diego looked at him intently.

" _Mumps_ , Father... Sixteen year old and mumps..."

Alejandro frowned. _Oh!_ _Ow_...

"Well, that's only a wild supposition, Diego" he told his son. "It looked like a mild fever with ear ache and a sore throat, there is no reason to be alarmed. It was certainly either tonsillitis or otitis."

But Diego bit his lower lip and looked away.

"What...?" Alejandro asked.

Still looking at the wall beside his father, Diego then murmured:

"Well, er... I didn't tell at the time, but... er... I also had some stomach pains, then. Well, not really in the stomach, rather in the lower belly. And also... even _lower_..."

He finally briefly set a significant look on his father and then paused to make his words sink in.

_Oh,_ Alejandro thought. _Ow..._

"I, er..." Diego went on, "I didn't want to tell anyone because it was... well... rather embarrassing. _Very_ embarrassing, in fact. So I just gritted my teeth and waited for it to pass. And it did eventually, so... I just forgot about it once it wasn't swollen anymore, and not painful either. And I had recovered so... everything was alright. Back to normal, in a way."

Alejandro looked at his son with something akin to disbelief mixed with true affection and awe.

"But... but... Diego..." he told him, "it must have been very painful! And you didn't tell anything?"

Diego turned rather pinked-faced while a blush crept on his cheeks and forehead.

"Well, as I said, it was very embarrassing... especially for a sixteen-years-old boy. And also..."

Again, he paused.

"Also...?" his father gently prompted him.

Diego chewed on his lower lip.

"Also," he finally went on, "when you're sixteen, you're eager to show the world that you're a man, and not a child anymore. I feared..."

Another pause.

"I feared everyone would call me a baby if I complained too much. I didn't want to let show I was in pain. I now know it's totally stupid, but at the time... I wanted people to consider me a grown-up. And grown-up men don't complain when they are in pain. They just grit their teeth and wait for it to pass. At least that's what I thought, back then."

Alejandro closed his eyes and shook his head at himself.

"That's what you _had been told_ , you mean," he said in a low voice. "By _me_..." he added in a murmur.

Alejandro had rarely felt so ashamed in his life. And so guilty. Even when he had read from Araceli about his impending paternity. His own son! He didn't see his own son's pain! His own son, his flesh and blood, thought he had to hide his pain from him to keep his father's respect! Oh, dear...

And perhaps the doctor could have done something to cure him sooner if he had known of Diego's true condition! Perhaps there were now irreversible damages which could have been avoided with an appropriate treatment?

But no, Alejandro had never heard of a cure to mumps: once the disease was there, only time and rest could help as far as he knew. And if the patient was an adult or a young man, there was nothing to do but pray that everything would be alright and that there would be no consequence...

Still, Alejandro thought, what a mess his own macho principles have made!

A part of him wanted to go to Diego and take his hands in his own, to show him both his support and his remorse, but another part of him wasn't used to such displays, even toward his own son: it wasn't really manly to hug another adult man, the mere idea of it seemed really awkward to him so he refrained from it.

Instead he stared at the tip of his shoes, hunched his back, sighed and let out in a very low voice:

"You didn't want to disappoint _me_..."

Another sigh.

Diego seemed to get the guilt in his father's voice, because he tried to ease it.

"No, it's my fault," he said. "I was too embarrassed. It's... well... not easy to talk about _these_ things...These... er... _parts_... And I stupidly thought that ignoring the problem would make it go. And it did, in a way: I recovered in a few days; time heals better than doctors, I thought... So you see, that was entirely the fault of my ignorance."

He raised his book once again.

"Knowledge is the key, Father," he said with a slightly strained smile.

"Perhaps, perhaps," Alejandro replied, "but to come back to the present, well... there is no way to be sure that... er... that it had _consequences_ on you. There is certainly no worry to have about it, everything is probably alright."

Alejandro didn't really know which of the two of them he wanted most to reassure with these words.

"Anyway," he went on, forcing a joyful and optimistic note in his voice, "there is no way to know until you truly try, is it?"

He couldn't help a hint of reproach in his voice when he said that, though.

"Until then," he added, "you'd better not worry yourself too much, Son."

Strangely, it didn't seem to lighten Diego's mood. What was wrong with him?

And what did prompt these sudden thoughts in Diego? Why? And why _now?_

Was he beginning to seriously consider...?

Did he finally ask for Victoria's permission to court her...? Or was he at least considering doing so...?

_Allelujah!_

But of course if there was a possibility that... that he couldn't... Well, after some time of courtship and before he asked her for her hand in marriage, or at least _absolutely_ before she agreed to it, he'd have to tell her of this possibility that perhaps he might be unable to provide her with children... even though it was only a very very slight eventuality.

Alejandro looked at his son intently.

"Diego..." he finally told him, "what exactly prompted this sudden worry, out of the blue...?"

And once more, Diego pointed to the huge book in his lap.

"Oh, uh... I was just... perusing through this... and when I came to this page, the list of symptoms simply struck me as... er... well, as matching with what I experienced at the time, so..."

Alejandro strangely wasn't convinced by his son's explanation, but he didn't let anything show.

"Anyway, there will be only one way to know," he repeated. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. And be sure that whatever happens, or not, I'll be here for you my son. Well, if I don't die of old age in the meantime," he teasingly added in an attempt to lighten the mood.

But his gentle and playful reproach and attempt at humour fell totally flat; he noticed Diego's glum bearing and he truly felt for his child. This time he really forced his usual nature and got to his feet to walk to him. Tentatively, awkwardly, he slowly laid a hesitant hand on his son's arm.

"Diego, my little one, I'm with you," he said in a murmur. "I'll stop nagging you about grandchildren, I swear. Please forgive me for having been so insistent in the past: in fact, it is not so important to me, not if it makes you feel bad toward me... Your happiness is what I value most of all, Son."

Just as awkward as his father, Diego raised his hand to cover Alejandro's on his arm, and staring right ahead into nothingness he whispered:

"But that's important to _me_ , Father. Having children matters to me..."

Alejandro looked down at his feet. He was at a loss, not knowing what to tell his boy. His little boy. His very tall little boy. His grown-up little boy. No matter how old and how tall Diego could be, Alejandro felt that he would remain his little boy forever.

And right now his boy was aching. Alejandro hadn't been used to face that. When Diego's mother died, Alejandro had been too devastated by his own grief to know how to comfort his son, equally shattered. They grieved each on his own, mainly, as less badly as they could...

And now, Alejandro realised that although Diego had hidden this desire for years, his grief at the eventuality of never having children was real, and deep, and painful. And not just as a mere blow to his manliness.

Alejandro really wanted to show him his support, and his love. But he didn't know how. He hadn't been taught to. What he had been taught in his youth was that it wasn't manly to cuddle a boy who wasn't a child anymore, that it was unthinkable to give him a kiss after he was twelve years old, that all this was the role of women... That a man's man had every right – and duty! – to love his children, but he had other ways than that to show them this love. To show it without voicing it, because anyway it went without saying, of course.

And Alejandro wondered: when was the last time he told his son he loved him...? He searched his mind but couldn't find any occurrence he did in the recent years. He frowned, searched harder, but still didn't find. When was the last time...? Was it really when Diego left for Madrid, roughly ten years ago?

He couldn't believe he hadn't told him so since that time. And suddenly, he wondered: did he at least really tell him he loved him just before his son's departure for Spain...? He didn't even remember.

"Diego, uh... er..." he began to say.

He stopped. He was surprised at how easy it was to him to cuddle Leonor and fondly kiss her, whereas he was having so much trouble showing his affection toward Diego. Again, he shook his head at himself: he often reproached Araceli for her refusal of any kind of commitment, but in truth, she was truly and fully committed to Leonor, and never shy about displaying her love for her, about letting it show and voicing it, even though she always avoided the risk of ever falling in love with a man. She wanted to protect her own heart under a shell, he wanted to protect his manly image with an armour... Perhaps they both had something to learn from each other, after all!

On the other hand, Alejandro noted inwardly, he didn't have as much trouble expressing his affection for Leonor... Yet it didn't mean he loved Diego any less than he loved her! No, not at all! He loved both his children absolutely equally. So was it because she was still a young child, or because she was a girl? He didn't know. But perhaps it was also Araceli's influence: whenever he was around her, such an aura of sheer love emanated from her for their little girl that he couldn't help but be influenced by it, as though her cuddly and feely-touchy behaviour toward Leonor was contagious. A very good and nice contagion, he reflected.

"Diego..." he tried again, despite his both natural and ingrained reserve, "Hijo... I... er..."

He paused again.

"I... uh... just want you to be happy... whatever way it takes..."

He very hesitantly reached to his son's shoulder and squeezed it.

"We can... er... ask for Doctor Hernandez's advice on that matter, if you want..."

Alejandro couldn't tell what was currently the most difficult and embarrassing part in this whole matter: discussing potential fertility problems with his single son or trying to voice his love for him aloud.

But another thought was starting to grow in his mind: somehow, he felt that Diego's interrogations about his own fertility didn't come up from idly reading this book, contrary to what he just pretended to his father, but that it was rather the other way round: Diego had been wondering, and searched this book on purpose.

Which led to another question: how long had he been having these doubts? And _why?_

Well, he didn't like this _"why"_ very much, so he simply set it aside in a recess of his mind for the moment.

But most of all: were these doubts what had prevented him from courting any woman? From courting _Victoria...?_ Was he sacrificing himself and his hopes for her love to her happiness and her wish for a family...? Alejandro's heart constricted in his chest and went to his son at this thought. He suddenly ached for him, wanted to hug him and rock him in him arms against his chest just like when he was just a toddler. And at the same time, he felt a rush of admiration for how strong and selfless Diego was being.

Right now, Alejandro was being incredibly proud of his son. But immensely sad for his inner suffering too.

"You know I love you dearly, Hijo..." he finally managed to mumble. "We'll sort this out."


	94. Ch 94 - The last mimosas

"Oh, Señor Guzmán, how nice to see you again!" a visibly pleased Diego exclaimed when he answered the knock on the hacienda's door.

"Buenos días Don Diego," the man replied. "I hope my visit here is no bother to you, I thought I would come and pay my respects to Señora Ximénez, with her permission. As well as yours and your father's of course. I don't mean to impose in your hacienda..."

"Oh but you're welcome, Señor, you're welcome of course. I am sure Señora Ximénez will be pleased..." Diego told him. "Please, come in, and have a seat, I'll have her be informed of your visit..."

While Señor Guzmán was putting something green and yellow down on a small pedestal table, Diego turned with the clear intent to call for Concepcion when Felipe entered the sala, with Leonor in tow.

"Oh, Buenos días young Señorita," Don Rodrigo told her, "I am glad to see you again."

Leonor tore her eyes away from Felipe and turned to them. She seemed to recognise the newcomer, looked at Diego, and before anyone had to remind her about the good manners her parents taught her she politely replied:

"Buenos días Señor."

"Leonor, mi querida," Diego said, "could you please go get your Mamá?"

She nodded, then she turned to Felipe and told him slowly, taking care to articulate:

"I will be back in a minute. Meanwhile, can you prepare the chess board with the pawns and pieces, please?"

Felipe nodded and turned his back to the two men.

"Our young friend here is deaf and mute," Diego explained.

"Oh?" Señor Guzmán said. "Then... then why did your daughter address him orally...?"

Diego's jaw almost dropped, and even Felipe's hand stopped in mid-air on its way to the chess board. Fortunately Don Rodrigo had his back to the young man and didn't see him.

"Oh," Diego hurriedly said "oh, I'm afraid there is some kind of misunderstanding here, Señor. I'm not– I'm not Leonor's father, I'm her brother... I mean, I mean I'm not her father, my father is."

He paused and breathed in to stop stammering.

"She is my father's daughter," he explained more clearly.

Don Rodrigo looked surprised.

"Oh," he then said. "Oh. I see. My apologies, I didn't mean to– I mean I thought that... Well, according to..."

He went silent.

"...to my age and Doña Araceli's, you mean?" Diego asked. "Quite understandable, Señor. I'm used to it."

Well, not really 'used to', he reflected inwardly, and in fact Señor Guzmán's remark sent him six months back in time, when the whole of Los Angeles was convinced that he was the girl's father.

"Now tell me, Don Rodrigo: is your business here going as expected?"

But Diego barely had time to make idle conversation with their guest before Araceli arrived, and the two men rose to their feet to greet her.

"Señora..." Don Rodrigo said with a polite and happy smile on his face, "I confess I'm imposing a bit on Señor de la Vega and on his kind hospitality for what was intended at first as a courtesy call to a fellow traveller..."

He bowed at her.

"But Don Diego's company and interest in industrialisation techniques are in fact very pleasant," he added.

"Gracias Señor," Diego replied, "but it is certainly not as pleasant as a fine lady's company, I know..." he added, also bowing at Araceli.

She was a bit puzzled at his sudden charming graciousness toward her but accepted the praise with a nice smile: perhaps Don Diego had decided to put a bit less distance between them... Perhaps he was now truly warming to her...?

"Indeed Señora," Don Rodrigo echoed, "I must confess that your mere presence just lit up this room..."

That was a bit too much, Araceli thought, but after the two days and a half ride in the stagecoach with him, she now knew that Señor Guzmán was an overly courteous and chivalrous man, but no toady or sweet-talker.

He went to her and bent for a very proper but impeccable handkiss. He then reached behind him to the small table and grabbed what he had previously left there to hand it to her. She smiled and took what turned out to be a small bouquet of mimosa and daffodils.

"Oh, how nice!" she said, plunging her nose in the symphony of yellow and green with delight. "I love the smell of mimosa, it is so sweet and heavenly... Thank you for this kind attention, Don Rodrigo!"

Leonor went to smell it too, and smiled.

"I love it too," she simply murmured.

"Then allow me, Señora..." Don Rodrigo gently said, reaching to the bouquet in her hands.

He took a small stem of mimosa from it and tucked it behind Leonor's ear.

"Here," he said with a kind smile, "just as elegant as her mamá..."

Diego was positively beaming: he suddenly thought that this Señor Guzmán would make a perfect beau for his father's former lover, and who knows... a good step-father to his little sister. But more generally, Diego was eager to see Araceli have a love interest, be it this Rodrigo or any other one as long as it was not his own father!

Unfortunately for him the discussion that followed didn't take any kind of romantic turn at all, quite the contrary: it remained desperately down-to-earth and business oriented. Diego sighed inwardly, and thought that perhaps his presence was acting as some sort of chaperone. So of course he sent Felipe and Leonor to the garden, then he found some excuse for himself to go – wasn't he an expert at that, after all? – and left them one on one. But from the other side of the opened window Felipe eavesdropped and according to his report, business, trading and industry remained the main topics even after Diego left them together.

He would have never thought he would ever find Doña Araceli to be far too proper, but she apparently had a knack for unwillingly being always contrary to his wishes!

After Don Rodrigo stayed half an hour, he left to go back to the pueblo: he was having lunch at the tavern with Don Virgilio for some business talk about sheep.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

When Alejandro came back home for lunch after visiting his vaqueros, he was carrying a large bunch of smelly yellow flowers in his arms.

"Araceli, my dear, these are for you. I know you absolutely love this smell. The last mimosas of my garden... They will be put to better use at filling your bedroom with their sweet fragrance."

"Oh, Alejandro, how wonderful! Today is decidedly the day for gallantry and courteous gentlemen!"

Puzzled by her words, Alejandro silently turned to his son, rather pleased: did Diego unusually do something particularly chivalrous toward Araceli? Was he finally making efforts to be less distant with her?

"Señor Guzmán came for a courtesy call earlier," Diego answered his father's silent question. "He brought Doña Araceli a token of his appreciation and respects, too," he added, pointing at the green and yellow bouquet in a small vase on the piano.

Alejandro stiffened almost imperceptibly, but Diego's and Felipe's well-trained eyes caught his reaction.

"Look Papá, he even tucked this behind my ear, just like you sometimes do," Leonor added with a beaming smile.

Seeing this, Alejandro went even stiffer. Offering flowers to Araceli was one thing, but imitating his fatherly gestures toward Leonor...!

He took a stem from his own bunch of mimosa and twisted it in Araceli's braided hair coiled up in a bun. Then he took another one and pinned it on her dress's bodice. Over her busty bosom. Right over her heart.

She had a gentle smile but simply told him:

"Gracias Alejandro. Now I'm going to ask for another vase, and I'll bring these last mimosas of the season to my bedroom."

_Oh no,_ Diego suddenly thought, _not the last mimosas!_ He had intended to pick them from the tree to offer them to Victoria... She too loved this fragrance. Over the past six months, from time to time, he had brought her flowers. Or left them on her bedcover in the middle of the morning or of the evening when she was busy in the tavern. She had never found how he managed to get there unnoticed, but she never asked too much anyway. He knew it was akin to playing with fire, to flirting with disaster, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but underhandly court her. Even under the guise of friendship, of chivalry.

Sometimes he even left his flowers in his mother's crystal vase, the one he had offered her.

The first time he simply laid a big sunflower in the middle of her bedcover. Another time it was freshly picked up poppies, but they withered far too soon. Sometimes it was a stargazer lily on her bedside table, sometimes carnations on her pillow. Or few heads of blue and pink hydrangeas in the vase. The first camellias of his father's garden carefully nested between the pillows – once she got the habit of putting _two_ pillows on her bed, he remembered with a fond smile. From time to time a small white card was coming along with the flowers, with a few words on it but no need for a signature. And just before he left for San Diego some weeks ago, he had simply slipped a small bouquet of forget-me-not under her bedsheet...

But today there wouldn't be any mimosa left for Victoria. Because of Doña Araceli, always her!

Anyway, Diego thought inwardly, with what he had recently discovered about himself – or at least what he suspected – he wasn't sure he had the right to court Victoria anymore. Or any woman, for that matter...

He brought his attention back to Doña Araceli who swiftly dropped a quick kiss on Alejandro's cheek; then with another bright smile she disappeared to the corridor, with a slight spring in her step.

Alejandro considered Señor Guzmán's bouquet on the piano with a glowering eye, like these flowers did personally offend him. Then he simply passed by the yellow bunch of bobble-like flowers, walked to the lunch table and just mumbled either to Diego or to himself:

"Mine is bigger."


	95. Ch 95 - The ban

Later in the afternoon, just as Diego was discreetly walking from the tavern's backdoor to the _Guardian's_ office, he noticed his father's carriage out of the corner of his eye. He pretended coming out of the office and walked across the plaza to join Felipe, Leonor and Araceli.

"Father did not come with you?" he simply asked, noting Alejandro's absence.

"Si, but he said he had some visit to make to the seamstress. He'll join us later. For my part, I have some letters for the mailcoach before it leaves to Monterey, then I'm going to the church for a short prayer, and also to pay my respects to Padre Benitez. Leonor and I haven't seen him yet since we arrived..."

Diego suddenly blanched, hoping that she didn't have any recent sin to confess that would involve his father! He briefly closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps he too should confess his own amorous 'activities' to the padre. But the problem in that matter was that you couldn't confess your own doings without revealing those of someone else too, so... So that was how Diego had managed to find a good excuse to avoid this difficult step until now.

Araceli and Leonor crossed the plaza to the church, and Felipe pointed at the tavern, signing that he was thirsty and wanted to say hello to Victoria.

Diego had many things to do for his newspaper, but he couldn't tell him that he had to go to the office, while he was supposed to have spent the past two hours working on the next edition.

So he followed Felipe and conspicuously greeted Victoria with a loud "Buenos días Señorita!" to convince everyone around that he hadn't seen her yet earlier in the day, while in truth he had just come out of her bedroom only a few minutes ago.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Careful, Blue-Eagle, you already had quite a lot of this," Victoria told one of her Indian customers.

"So what?" the inebriated man answered. "It's good for your business that I buy tequila. So stop patronising me and fill this glass again, Señorita."

"No, that's enough," she retorted wisely. "I won't give you any more for today, Señor. You really should go home, now".

"No, I ordered tequila, I can pay for it, so you _will_ refill my glass!"

"No, and that's flat," Victoria replied briskly.

But Blue-Eagle didn't take no for an answer and started making a scene.

"That's because I'm an Indian, uh? You don't want Ind–"

"No, that's because you're already drunk!" she calmly but firmly retorted. "Go home and sleep it off, you've had more than your dose."

But Blue-Eagle didn't comply and grabbed her across the bar.

"I want you to fill this glass with tequila, so you just will. I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Let go of my arm, you're hurting me," she said.

Diego had suddenly leaped on his feet but Felipe grabbed his arm and held him back from reacting and rushing to rescue her.

Fortunately Sergeant Mendoza and two of his men were there and overpowered the inebriated angry man. A few glasses were broken in the process, two chairs were knocked over, but it otherwise went rather smoothly. Instead of simply throwing Blue-Eagle out of the tavern the soldiers brought him to a jail cell for a few hours, just to keep an eye on him until he sobered up and calmed down.

Diego went to Victoria and softly inquired:

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm alright Diego, it's not the first time I have to handle a difficult customer. I'm used to it. And Sergeant Mendoza was here too, so everything is alright."

"And he has my eternal gratitude for coming to your help," Diego said, inconspicuously taking her hand and squeezing it. "I– er... Your safety and well-being is a real concern to me, you know... Even if I don't... er... show it enough... in this kind of situation..."

"I know Diego," she said, freeing her hand from his for fear anyone would see it. Hers suddenly felt very cold. And empty. She discovered she liked feeling his hand in hers, or around hers.

Suddenly she felt that although she was grateful to Mendoza and his men, she would have liked someone else to team up with her and defend her from Blue-Eagle's... inebriatedness. And curiously enough, she discovered that her first thought was not that she would have liked Zorro to be here and rush to her help. No. Strangely enough, she regretted that Diego didn't stand up and come to defend her. _Diego_ of all people! Diego, standing up and getting himself in a dangerous man's way... _preposterous_ , she thought. Diego always avoided any kind of violence, he hated it. And feared it.

Really, where did this weird idea of having Diego play her white knight in shining armour come from? She really shouldn't mistake him for Zorro, there weren't two men more different from each other than those two! Except of course the alcalde and Zorro. Or the alcalde and Diego...

Still, it was good to know that he cared. So she sent him a sweet smile and reassured him with another discreet squeeze of the hand:

"I'm alright Diego, don't worry..."

But still, she appreciated that he helped her pick up the pieces of broken glass, even though he cut his finger with a sliver of it. Handing him a towel to dab on it and stop the bleeding, she suddenly remembered how clumsy he was and thought she shouldn't have accepted his help, for his own good.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Later, Diego and Felipe met with Don Alejandro and Doña Araceli near their carriage on the plaza, and they related the unpleasant scene they witnessed to them.

"Blue-Eagle? Isn't he sometimes working as a scout for the army or for explorers?" Alejandro asked.

"Yes he is. And he seems to have acquired a taste for strong alcohols, lately," his son answered. "Victoria said that it's not the first time she has to... er... to turn off the tap to him."

Alejandro shook his eyes dejectedly at the devastating effects strong alcohol could have on otherwise perfectly normal and decent people.

"Well, personally I generally stick to good wine," he stated.

Diego nodded approvingly. He was about to add something when he noticed Rodrigo Guzmán coming out of the seamstress's. A happy smile came to his lips: he sincerely liked the man's company and conversation, even apart from the hopes he had of seeing him and Araceli develop an interest of a totally different nature for each other!

But yes, the more he was thinking about it, the more he thought they would make a good match. The more he thought she could have a liking for him: he was smart, progressive, forward-thinking, a modernizer. He was charming and educated, very courteous, only five to ten years older than she was, and pleasant to talk with. And probably not unpleasant to look at either, as far as – as a man – Diego could judge. Oh, and he was being kind to Leonor, too!

So yes, Diego thought that, provided she was nudged in the right direction, Doña Araceli could very well make him her next candy... and perhaps more if they really get on, who knows...

Except that, as he suddenly remembered, she was still married. As far as he was aware of, anyway. _Ow_ , that was really too bad, because he was already seeing Don Rodrigo as a perfect husband for her, and even a good step-father to Leonor.

And then another even more annoying thought came to trouble his nice little strategic plan: after all, nothing said that Guzmán wasn't already married himself! At first, Diego thought the man wanted to somehow court Araceli, because he _wanted_ him to do that; but perhaps it had only been wishful thinking from his part? He decided he had to very soon find out whether or not Don Rodrigo had a wife back home in Ensenada.

Diego walked to Guzmán, making sure that Araceli became aware of the man's presence.

"Don Rodrigo, how nice to meet you again!"

Señor Guzman turned to them and smiled.

"Don Diego, Señora Ximénez! What a pleasure indeed!" he said.

And he walked to them too, then bowed his head before her.

"Señor de la Vega," he told Alejandro, "I am glad to see you again. I missed you earlier in the morning, unfortunately."

"Señor..." Alejandro simply politely replied with a slight nod of his head. "Unfortunately I had to go outside on my rancho: perhaps you know how it is, running such a business..."

"Of course, of course, you owe yourself to your rancho and to its workers, that's only natural Don Alejandro."

"Your own rancho certainly takes you much time too, I suppose," the older man told him.

"It does, but it is a rather small one. Hence my wish and interest for diversification," Don Rodrigo answered.

"Still, it probably requires everyday work and supervision. But I am sure that in your absence, your wife probably stands in for you as long as necessary."

 _Oh oh,_ Diego thought, _Father too is interested in knowing Señor Guzmán's marital status, it seems..._ Admittedly, he hadn't chosen the most subtle approach, but at least everyone will be informed, that way. Including Doña Araceli.

"Oh, unfortunately she couldn't," Don Rodrigo answered. "She passed away six years ago," he explained further with a melancholy look on his face. "Her lungs..." he added. "And my eldest daughter is still too young to cover for me while I'm away: she is barely fifteen."

Alejandro was doubly saddened: first, he felt for this man's obvious sadness at his wife' death of course, but also... but also... it meant that Señor Guzmán was free of any commitment. _On the market,_ so to speak. And as a still rather young widower, he might be free to engage in some kind of relationship with a woman. A woman roughly his age. A young widow, for instance.

As a young widowed businessman with children, he might find much common ground with a young widowed businesswoman with a child... and for some reason Alejandro didn't like this thought very much.

"I am sorry for your loss, Señor," Araceli told him. "Please accept my late but sincere condolences."

Diego joined in, and after Alejandro politely added his own condolences, he turned to his daughter and helped her in the carriage with Felipe, a few feet away from them.

In the middle of chatting over lighter topics with Diego and their new acquaintance, Araceli suddenly noticed something out of the corner of her eye: the tavern owner was rushing to Alejandro and started talking to him rather animatedly.

Diego and Señor Guzmán finally took notice of it too and turned to them like Araceli just did.

"...and you must do something, _we_ must do something. We can't let him establish such an unfair and disgusting rule! What do you sugg–"

"What's happening, Victoria?" Diego asked.

But his father didn't let her time to answer:

"The alcalde apparently just set a new rule: he wants to ban every Indian from entering the tavern."

"What!?" Diego exclaimed.

"Yes," Victoria answered, "he pretends that they behave badly in there, and says that it's the best way to avoid trouble and fights in my tavern, and more generally in the pueblo. He pretends that they have a bad relationship to alcohol, that they tend to make nasty drunks. That it's dangerous for everyone else around."

"What?!" Diego repeated. "Just because one– Just because _one_ man _one_ day did some rumpus, he turns against all Indians?"

"That's iniquitous!" an indignant Alejandro exclaimed.

"And totally stupid," Araceli added. "Or did other Indians often make trouble in your tavern, Señorita?" she asked Victoria.

"No," she replied. "No, not more than anyone else... And anyway, they are not so many who patronise my establishment. A few of them come once in a while, but I'd say I don't see more than one Indian once a week in my tavern, they mostly keep to themselves. And among this small part of my patrons, only Blue-Eagle has ever been drinking really too much, lately."

"But now de Soto wants to put the blame on every Indian around..." Alejandro grumbled. "A pity how prejudiced it makes us all appear. And in fact many a Spaniard did make trouble in your tavern in the past, but we've never been all collectively banned from there for all that!"

"Fortunately for Señorita Escalante's business," Araceli said. "But even if only the Chumash are banned, it makes you lose part of your patrons," she told Victoria.

"Oh, that's not the point," she replied. "I mean, it's such a small part of my customers that it won't really make a difference to my profits. But still..."

"That's the businesswoman in you talking, Señora," Diego pointed out a bit accusingly, looking at Araceli.

"Not at all, Don Diego: the cold-hearted businesswoman would only say that now is the ideal time for opening a tavern out of the pueblo, near the Indian settlement..." she retorted with a smile. "But just as Señorita Escalante said, that's not the point here. So, what can we do?" she asked, clearly waiting for suggestions.

Diego put on his mask of eternal idealistic dreamer and stated:

"I'm going to see de Soto; I will talk to him, show him the uselessness of his decision. He'll have to come round..."

"I'm coming with you," Araceli said.

But Alejandro just sighed at his son's suggestion:

"You know it's to no avail, Diego: he won't listen. He _never_ listens, and never learns..."

"But what better suggestion do you have, then?" Araceli asked him a bit abruptly, putting her hands on her hips.

Diego didn't let his father time enough to answer:

"I'll write a letter to the governor, in this case. Let's go home now."

"A _letter_?" Alejandro asked, almost disgustedly.

But he didn't add anything else and just imperceptibly shook his head while Victoria was telling his son:

"Really, Diego... Do you really think your letter will reach the governor? And even if it does, what makes you think he will read it _and_ pay attention to it? We're just a small dot on the map of California for him, Diego, nothing more. And the Chumash tribes probably mean even less to him, let's be real..."

"Well, I'm going to your alcalde anyway. He can't be that bad, you certainly see him darker than he is..."

Alejandro threw up his hands in defeat and told her:

"As you wish, but you're wasting your time my dear."

"You won't go there on your own, Señora," Señor Guzmán told her. "I'll come with you, with your permission."

So they both turned and walked to the alcalde's office. Alejandro just shrugged and Victoria asked him, surprised:

"And you didn't try harder to dissuade her...?"

"Victoria my dear, if you knew Araceli as well as I do, you'd know that most of the time she trusts only her own ears or eyes... So rather that wasting ten minutes arguing with her to no avail because it would still end up with her going to de Soto, I'd rather have her go to him right now, argue with _him_ , meet a brick wall and finally realise that I was right from the start, after all..."

"But don't you fear that the alcalde would take it the wrong way and put her in jail if she protests too much against his new rule?"

"She's a stranger to our pueblo," Alejandro replied, "and a woman. With connexions in Monterey, in San Diego, in San Luis Obispo, in San Francisco, all over Alta California! He wouldn't dare put her in jail. And if ever he does, then he knows I may skewer him! He can't think I'd let him torment my daughter's mother just because she has a good heart, don't worry. She's safe. He'd think twice before arresting a fine lady."

"Perhaps, but Señor Guzmán is a man," Diego added. "Ignacio might not have so much scruples about making him spend a night in his jail..."

"Oh... yes," Alejandro replied, thoughtful. "I hadn't thought about that. That would be... unfortunate."

He had said it with a strange hint of a smile in his voice, but he soon regretted his uncharitable thought.

"But I'm sure it won't come to that," he finally added. "And if he does, I'll go to de Soto. And I'm sure Zorro will do something about it too. At least I hope so..."

"And what about the Indians?" Victoria asked.

"I'm going to write to the governor anyway," Diego said. "Father, I borrow your horse," he told Alejandro, "Will you take my place in the carriage, please?"

And without waiting for his father's answer he walked to the hitching post.

"It seems I don't have much choice anyway," Alejandro grumbled. "Be careful, Diego!" he then shouted at him, "Dulcinea is quite a spirited horse! You're not used to it!"

Then he turned to Victoria:

"A _letter_..." he said, shaking his head. "My son is a dreamer... And Araceli is trying to knock some sense into Ignacio de Soto! They both engage in lost battles. But now come, my dear: let's try to find some way out of this stupid new rule."

And he took her arm to drag her to her own tavern.

"Don Alejandro..." she told him halfway.

He stopped and looked at her.

"Hmm?" he simply asked.

"I'm beginning to think that the world needs dreamers; sometimes they make it a nicer place to live in..."


	96. Ch 96 - Brave but not reckless

"Señor alcade, por favor, listen to the voice of reason!" Araceli said, on the verge of frustration.

"I regret Señora, but these facts are too serious, and it's not the first time it happens."

"But only with this _one_ person, according to Señorita Escalante..." she retorted, appealing to his reason. "What's the point in stigmatising and punishing a whole group of individuals just for the wrongdoing of _one_ person who just happens to belong to the same people as the rest of them!"

"Alcohol and Indians don't mix very well, Señora, the past has shown this enough," de Soto retorted.

"Alcohol doesn't mix well with people in general, Alcalde," she replied. "Strong alcohol or large amounts of it, I mean, and with _any_ people."

"I agree with Doña Araceli," Señor Guzmán seconded. "I've seen many a man misbehave after he drank too much, be it a Spaniard, an Indian, an Englishman or a Yankee, Señor alcalde: clearly it doesn't depend on the man's origin."

"Oh?" de Soto retorted. "So your solution is a total ban on alcohol, then?"

 _"What?"_ Araceli exclaimed. "No way!," she said, remembering that a good part of her business was made on wine trade. "A prohibition of any kind of alcohol here in California, or anywhere in America? Would never work."

Guzmán shrugged.

"Of course not," he told the alcalde, "and by the way, our beautiful California is now producing wine too, so it would be shooting oneself in the foot. Economically speaking, I mean."

"My sentiment exactly, Don Rodrigo," Araceli said. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

He turned to her and sent her a happy and thankful smile.

"But that's absolutely not the point here, no one wants to ban wine around here of course..." de Soto assured. "But those who want to enjoy a reasonable amount of it in our tavern have the right not to be disturb by barroom brawls and customers making a scene, that's all."

"I couldn't agree more, Señor alcalde," Araceli replied, "but why limiting the people likely to make a scene of to fight to the Chumash tribe? Why pointing them out like that? Banning Indians is not the answer to most bar brawls, and I am sure you are clever enough to know that. So what's the point?"

"I'm in charge of order and security here in Los Angeles, Señora, and people are growing more and more worried about the cohabitation with Indian tribes and their presence so close to our pueblo."

"Well, if these people fear so much the average Indians," Araceli coldly told him, "or if they dislike so much living near them, then perhaps they shouldn't have come to live here on their former lands, and so close to their current settlements and areas of living... How would you feel if our Yankee neighbours annexed California to make it their home, and then after two or three generations they simply complain that there are too many Spaniards like us, or Indians, or Criollos, or Mestizos living here among them?"

"You're just making a wild hypothesis here, Señora," de Soto told her, "but this is never going to happen anyway."

"Of course not," Señor Guzmán said, "but what Doña Araceli means is that the problems of cohabitation between us Spaniards and the Indian tribes may not be entirely the Indians' fault... It's more a matter of shared responsibility, as well as shared territory. Is that it, Señora?"

"I couldn't have put it better, Don Rodrigo," she replied with a smile.

"Hmm, you seem to be incredibly... open-minded, Señora," de Soto replied. " _Broad_ -minded, even. But in fact, we were already aware of that, weren't we?" he added, barely veiling his reference to her affair with Alejandro and to her having a child out of wedlock.

The hint wasn't lost on Señor Guzmán who chivalrously stood up for her:

"Señor alcalde! Your words are not worthy of a caballero! Please take them back and apologise to the Señora."

De Soto perhaps regretted his petty words as soon as they left his lips, but now that this man had called him on it he didn't want to lose face. The talk became a bit heated between the two men and even Araceli's rather firm "Don Rodrigo, please let me deal with that" or "I've already heard far worse, don't worry" didn't manage to defuse either man's temper or the situation.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Yes," Alejandro told Victoria as they were both sitting on the porch just outside her tavern with Leonor between them, "and for my part I will go to the Chumash settlement and talk to them about Blue-Eagle. As soon as Araceli comes out of de Soto's office. Because I very much doubt she's going to knock some sense into him: he's so... bloody-minded!"

Victoria chuckled.

"Papá, where's Felipe?" Leonor asked.

"Hmm? I don't know, Cariño. He has probably gone to play with some youths his age."

"Can I go play too, please?"

"Yes, but not too far. Stay close from here."

"Si Papá," the child promise while already running to the other side of the plaza where she liked climbing and walking on the hitching post, imagining she was walking the edge of some dangerous canyon.

"Let's just hope Señora Valdès won't get herself into trouble while trying to plead with the alcalde," Victoria said. "Do you really think that Die– that Don Diego's attempt is so hopeless? Perhaps the governor doesn't listen to us, perhaps he won't listen to him, but... but at least this letter will have the merit of existing, if nothing else. I mean, at least someone will have tried to alert him. If no one does, then what hope will there ever be that someday someone learns of what happens here, and finally decides to do something about it?"

"Like calling de Soto back to Spain and giving us a decent alcalde, for a change? You're still young and full of illusions, dearest Victoria," he said affectionately although a bit patronisingly. "But your trust in Diego is refreshing, I must say. Who knows, perhaps he's right and I'm the one who's pessimistic and disenchanted like the old fogey I am..."

"Señora Valdès would not like hearing you talk like that, Don Alejandro... and neither would Leonor! She doesn't see you as an old man!"

"Well of course: I'm her father, she is biased!"

"We're all biased with the people we love, Don Alejandro."

"Too true, my dear..."

He didn't have time to add anything else because they saw Araceli get out of de Soto's office. At a brisk pace and with long strides. Alejandro knew her enough to know that she was obviously peeved and annoyed. And he was wise enough to know that for the few minutes to come, he'd better tread cautiously around her, and walk on eggshells.

At the same time, Felipe appeared from round the corner of the alcalde's office and he too walked to them, soon followed by Leonor. Victoria briefly wondered where he had been but she then remembered something: she had previously noticed that the young man seemed to have a boyish crush on the seamstress's daughter, but she didn't think he had any chance with her: she feared that his impairments would remain a wall between him and the young girls around. She sent a silent prayer to the Lord that he could one day meet a woman able to communicate with him and to love him for the wonderful man he was slowly becoming day after day, thanks to Diego. And to Don Alejandro too, of course.

Meanwhile, Araceli had reached them and was venting to Alejandro:

"Really, your alcalde is such a mule... He wouldn't even listen! He just decides, and we should only all bow to his decision! No discussion is even possible with him!"

"Welcome to Los Angeles," Alejandro simply told her, almost humorously.

He didn't pronounce the words, but Victoria clearly heard a note of a teasing and very slightly triumphant _'I told you so'_ in his voice.

Felipe had finally joined them and Victoria gestured him to a chair.

"Where is Señor Guzmán?" Victoria asked, noticing her new customer's absence by Araceli's side.

Alejandro suddenly noticed it too, surprised that he hadn't noted it sooner. Well, he hadn't really missed the man anyway and wasn't particularly eager to see him reappear anywhere near Araceli...

"Oh," she growled in answer, "he and the alcalde... they had words... and not even because of these Indians!"

"What about, then?" Victoria asked.

"Hmm," Araceli said visibly irritated. And embarrassed to. "Because of me I'm afraid," she finally admitted, rather reluctantly so.

"I beg your pardon?" Alejandro retorted.

"What did you do?" Victoria inquired.

"What did he do?" Alejandro asked right at the same time.

Araceli growled again.

"Grrr, men and their stupid pissing contests..." she simply muttered by way of answer.

Victoria threw a glance in Alejandro's direction, but he only silently indicated that he didn't understand anymore than she did. All he knew, though, was that if she was going so far as to use this kind of language, and in her daughter's presence at that, then it meant that they had really upset her. Leonor, as for her, raised her eyebrows to her hairline both in surprise and amusement at hearing her Mamá say a cuss word, but she was wise enough not to say anything. In fact she seemed rather eager to make her presence among the grown-ups be forgotten.

"Your alcalde fined Don Rodrigo for... er... what did he say already?" Araceli said. "Oh yes, _'rebellion to the authorities and verbal offense to their representative',_ that's how he phrased it. But then Don Rodrigo protested and this time the alcalde purely and simply put him in jail, can you imagine that?"

"Yes," Alejandro replied, "unfortunately we can very well imagine that."

Victoria and Felipe both silently nodded their agreement with him.

"He..." Araceli muttered hesitantly, "he won't go too far, right? I mean, the alcalde will just keep him in jail for the afternoon, or for the night, and then he'll release him, uh?"

Despite the circumstances Victoria couldn't help but rejoice: Señora Valdès seemed to care for this man, right? And with any chance, she now cared more for him than for Diego... Again she glanced at Don Alejandro, who was looking a bit grim.

"Probably, yes, don't worry," he answered. "Although with de Soto you never know..."

"The alcalde can sometimes be... difficult," Victoria added. "But if it turns nasty, I'm sure Zorro will take care of the matter," she said enthusiastically.

 _Zorro_... Araceli thought. The man in black. The strange bandit who rescued Leonor months ago... But also the outlaw who posed as the priest... The man who _knew_...

She couldn't totally suppress a very slight shudder: she clearly didn't share the innkeeper's enthusiasm and blind trust in the man.

"Hmm, and what about this ban...?" Araceli said.

"Perhaps if we can convince the Chumash to... er... keep an eye on Blue-Eagle and keep him in check, then it will give us an argument for de Soto to give up his new rule about Indians in the tavern."

"Good idea," she replied. "And I have another argument that might convince him too, but unfortunately things turned a bit too... unreasonable between the alcalde and Don Rodrigo for me to have time to put it forward. And now is not the time anyway: this de Soto was too upset to listen to the voice of reason, so I left and kept it in store for when he has cooled down a bit."

"Good," Alejandro said. "I'm going to the Chumash settlement, then."

"I'm coming with you, Araceli told him.

"No my dear. They don't know you, they will have no reason to trust you or your word."

"Well, you'll make the introductions, then. I just can't stay home and sit by. I'm not like your son!"

"That's uncalled for, Señora!" Victoria protested a bit heatedly.

Alejandro turned to the younger woman and stared at her, looking pleasantly surprised. Even though he too shared Araceli's opinion on Diego's do-nothingness.

But what was happening to her? Until then, Araceli had always been the one who called for his indulgence toward his son... She had really been annoyed by her meeting with the alcalde, if she was now railing at Diego...

"You're right Señorita," she told Victoria, "I shouldn't take my frustration out on him, none of it is his fault. My apologies, Alejandro, I shouldn't have spoken ill of your son. Thank you for calling me on that, Señorita, and for reminding me my manners. You're absolutely right, that was uncalled for, and I shouldn't have said that. Even less so that Don Diego wasn't here to stand up for himself, so you were right to do so in his place."

"That's alright my dear," Alejandro told her, "you're forgiven. And Victoria..." he added, turning to her and sending her a very radiant smile, "thank you for him."

Araceli looked away. Something was unpleasantly constricting her chest and churning in her insides.

"Alright," she said springing to her feet, "let's not take root here, we have an Indian settlement to visit."

"You're not coming."

"I am."

"Perhaps we should care for Señor Guzmán's wellbeing in the meantime, Señora..." Victoria suggested, eager to have Araceli get closer to this stranger. "The alcalde doesn't forbid us to bring good food to the prisoners, that's still less he has to provide for..."

Araceli seemed to consider it a second, but apparently completely missed Victoria's purpose behind it because she interpreted it as an offer from the taverness _alone_ to bring him dinner in his cell.

"Yes..." she pensively said, "yes, do that, and put it on my bill. Although I'm not sure either of these two señores deserves the trouble."

Then she turned to the carriage, muttering once again:

"Men and their stupid pissing contests..."

She grabbed her daughter's hand and walked to the carriage.

"Come on Alejandro," she told him, "We've got a courtesy call to make to an Indian settlement."

Felipe looked surprised that he didn't protest more vigorously or adamantly refused that she went there with him.

Alejandro simply looked up.

"Felipe my boy, I'm not fool enough to start arguing with her when she is in this mood... There is a difference between bravery and recklessness, you'll learn that."

Felipe raised a sceptical eyebrow and pointed at him, then made a gesture meaning more or less " _You_ of all people are saying this...?"

"Diego may have a different opinion on the matter, but I'm not foolhardy enough for _that_ ," he said, pointing at Araceli.

And seeing the young man's still sceptical look, hinting that in his eyes this woman didn't seem to be such a formidable adversary, Alejandro added:

"My young friend, you're saying this now because you're not married. But when you are, you'll know that certain unnecessary dangers better be avoided."

"Good, so you're going to take her with you to talk to the Chumash, then," Victoria told him.

"I didn't say so..." he replied. "I don't want her ending up accidentally suggesting that they open a tavern near their settlement... and you certainly don't want that either, Victoria."

"Certainly not, indeed."

"And I don't want her ending up unwillingly offending them out of lack of knowledge of their habits and customs either. It could turn nasty."

Felipe nodded. He too had learned some of said customs the hard way, and he nearly lost his life when a jealous young Indian challenged him to a duel for kissing his former intended.

"But Araceli doesn't know where the settlement is," Alejandro went on, "and I didn't say when I'll go there, so..."

"...so if you're already gone when she notices your absence, there is no way she can join you..." Victoria completed.

"Exactly," he said, rather happy with himself.

Felipe remarked that he very probably wouldn't avoid a far worse argument with Doña Araceli once back home, but Alejandro didn't understand his signs. Or at least he _seemed_ not to understand these. Perhaps he was hoping that by the time he comes back she'd have forgotten...? Felipe wouldn't count much on that: he may not be married, he wasn't naive.

"Alejandro!" Araceli impatiently called from the carriage, "I am sorry I have to ask you to shorten your goodbyes to Señorita Escalante, but it's already late, and I think it's better we come back from the settlement before it's dark!"

"Yes Papá, Felipe, come and let's go back home!" Leonor added.

"Duty calls," he simply told Victoria. "And don't forget the dinner tonight at the hacienda, Diego and I are looking forward to your presence," he added loudly with a broad smile as he was joining Araceli and Leonor. "See you then!"


	97. Ch 97 - A Chumash encounter

"Alejandro, do you know where your son is? I didn't find him in his r–"

Araceli stopped when she entered the sala and saw that Don Alejandro was nowhere to be seen either. The only person in there was the young deaf-mute servant whom Leonor was so fond of. She turned to him and very slowly articulated:

"Do you know where Don Alejandro is?"

Felipe looked at her, not really wanting to answer too precisely: indeed, as soon as they reached home and Araceli went to Leonor's bedroom to give her some reading and arithmetic to do, Alejandro had quickly turned around, sneaked out and left for the Chumash settlement.

So when Araceli asked Felipe about him, the young man simply pointed outside, vaguely motioning his hand in some very unspecific direction.

But it didn't fool Araceli one bit:

"And he didn't even wait for me! I can't believe... Well, I'll join him there."

And before Felipe had time to try to dissuade her, she bolted out of the hacienda without even taking the time to change into a riding outfit, and she went straight to the stable where she borrowed Diego's mare.

_Don Alejandro is in for a good earful once the matter with the Indians and with Señor Guzmán is settled,_ Felipe thought. He chuckled: he was beginning to like this woman, and also to see the resemblance with her daughter. And with Don Alejandro, too...

Hopefully she would have other matters in mind than bringing up Diego's absence in her conversation with his father. Felipe, for his part, had an idea of his friend's whereabouts: odds were that Zorro too had ridden to the Chumash settlement to give Blue-Eagle a piece of his mind – Diego had really been upset by his behaviour toward Victoria, and frustrated by his impossibility to step in and defend her.

In fact, chances were high that Don Alejandro and him met there!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Araceli followed the hoof-prints Dulcinea had left on the dusty ground when Alejandro rode off to the hills. She might not be the best tracker in the world, far from it, but at least she could spot the tracks left by someone who didn't care about hiding them. That was how she had found her daughter's abductors six months ago, after all!

Except that after some time, the tracks were not as obvious anymore, and she could also see other hoof-prints and foot-prints, heading to different directions; and suddenly it wasn't as easy as it had been near the hacienda! She hesitated between four tracks, chose one and followed it to a group of huge boulders.

Behind these boulders she saw a nice little stream flow down the smooth slope of the hill. Good A settlement needed water, so there was a chance that the Chumash tribe established theirs not far from this stream. Now the question was: upstream or downstream of this point? Once against she was faced with a choice, and she couldn't spot any clear hoof-print around there anymore... She'd have to randomly chose, then. Damn Alejandro! If only he had waited for her! She had perhaps a solution to expose to them but for this she had to meet these Indians, or at least some of their leaders or representatives!

Just as Araceli urged Esperanza to the north, the mare reared a bit and shied at something. Once she managed to calm her mount, she saw that the something in question was in fact a young girl, about Leonor's age, who had been carrying a bucket of water. An _Indian_ girl. _Lucky draw,_ Araceli thought.

The child had been frightened by the near collision with the horse and she had fallen to the ground, with the knocked over bucket spilling its content around her as well as on her dress. The girl curled up in a ball in the middle of this pool of water, and Araceli suddenly feared that the child was wounded. She quickly dismounted and rushed to the girl.

"Hey, niña, where are you hurt...?" she inquired in a quavering voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't see y–"

But she didn't have time to finish her sentence: she felt something grab her from behind and yank her backwards.

"Don't touch her!" a strong male voice sharply ordered.

Still not seeing her assailant, she then felt him grab her right arm and pull it behind her back.

"She needs help!" was all Araceli managed to let out.

The man turned them around so that they were now facing each other, with him standing between her and the girl. He released Araceli but pulled a rather impressive knife from his belt and pointed it at her. She could see that he was Indian too. Roughly as tall as Don Diego, brawny, looking rather impressive. And as if his knife pointed at her wasn't enough, his dark brown eyes were shooting daggers at her. Instinctively, Araceli took a step back. Out of the blue, she noted that the man's braided black hair was almost as long as hers.

The child behind him uncurled from the ground and slowly sat up, looking around her, while Esperanza was quietly waiting a few feet away from them, idly nibbling at the first tender leafs of a nearby bush.

"I..." Araceli started, unable to tear her eyes away from the blade, "I just wanted to help! I mean no harm!"

But the man didn't lower his knife.

"Sure..." he said, visibly not believing her. "Weren't you rather in search of a young and docile new servant girl you wouldn't need to pay...?"

"What...?!"Araceli exclaimed, surprise and outrage briefly overcoming fear in her mind for a split second. "Absolutely not!" she shouted rather indignantly. "I didn't even see her, I swear! When my horse reared up and made her fall to the ground, I feared she was seriously injured and I went to her only in order to help. I swear!"

But it didn't convince the man who humphed.

"And what proof is there of this tale? I haven't even ever seen you before, you're not from Los Angeles... What were you doing here to begin with, if not searching for an Indian child to enslave? You're on our territory! You Spaniards should really stop thinking you're at home everywhere around here..."

"I'm not– I don't– I swear!" Araceli objected.

Really, she inwardly thought, she had a knack for getting herself into trouble as soon as she was riding around Los Angeles... Perhaps Alejandro was right and the area was more dangerous than she initially thought... Which made her reconsider agreeing to let Leonor go to her father's every two months or so...

But back to the present: the situation wasn't very favourable.

"You're right," she said, "I'm not from here. I'm only staying by a friend for a few days or weeks. And I knew I was on your lands, or at least I was hoping so: in fact, I was in search of your settlement. I have to talk to your elders, or to your chief, or to any authorities your tribe may have..."

The man frowned. Behind him, the child got on her feet and Araceli saw that the girl didn't seem injured after all. Good, more scared than hurt, then.

"Go back home to your parents, Toypurnia," the man told the child, "we'll care about the water later..."

The girl picked the fallen and now empty bucket from the ground and ran off.

"I didn't want to scare you, niña!" Araceli shouted at her retreating back, but the child soon disappeared behind a bush.

"So you want to see our chiefs and elders..." the man told Araceli. "Why would you?"

"It's a bit complicated and long to explain. It has to do with a new rule the alcalde of Los Angeles had just established in the pueblo."

"This is of no concern to us. Make do with your own alcalde, that's none of our business."

"Well, in the present case it is, unfortunately."

"How so?"

Araceli sighed.

"Are we to discuss it here? In the end I'll have to repeat all this to your chiefs, so let's not waste our time... Unless _you_ are the chief?"

"I'm not. But you are right on one thing: I don't want to let you waste my time. Alright, I will bring you to our chief, but before that..."

He motioned to her to slowly turn around. She wasn't too keen on turning her back to a man holding a knife, but she didn't have much choice.

"Hands up!" he ordered.

She complied. She then felt him push her to the vertical stone wall of the large boulder, and he probably sheathed his knife back in his belt because next thing she knew, she was feeling both his hands body-searching her.

"Never too prudent..." he muttered, palpating her arms and shoulders.

Then his hands went lower, checking for any knife, gun, or anything else.

"I'm not armed," she told him.

"I will need more than your word on that," he retorted, going on with the search.

"Hey!" she angrily protested as his fingers touched her bosom. "Go right ahead, cope a feel!" she spat at him when his hands then felt her hips and thighs.

"Don't flatter yourself..." the man retorted through gritted teeth.

When he was finished, he simply growled:

"There is just so much flesh on you that it's impossible not to brush against something..."

Cut to the quick, Araceli momentarily forgot her fear and snapped in a very misplaced and unconsidered bout of hurt vanity:

"I'll have you know that no man ever complained to me about it before, quite the contrary!"

The Indian just shrugged dismissively.

"I don't care," he replied, "Besides, I'm already married, and happily so. Anyway, you white women are really unattractive," he added with a disdainful pout. "And what's more, you all look the same... Sorry to disappoint your hopes, Señora."

"You certainly don't," she replied tit for tat with a shrug.

He turned her around so that she faced him again.

"Alright, you said the truth: no weapon."

"I'm a woman of my word."

He grabbed her arm and dragged her to Esperanza. He even offered her his help to climb in the saddle, then he mounted behind her and took the reins.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Definitely not my lucky day,_ Araceli thought as she spotted the black silhouette about three hundred feet ahead of them on the path. _No, not this bandit again!_

The masked outlaw visibly spotted them too because he urged his stallion to a trot in their direction.

"My respects, Señora," he told her, before addressing the Indian behind her: "Buenos dias Strong-Alder. What is this woman doing here with you?"

"You're on what's left of the Chumash territory here, Black-Fox..." the man simply said by way of answer.

"Which I am well aware of, be sure of that."

"Do you have business to do here, then...?" the Indian named Strong-Alder suspiciously asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do, yes," Zorro replied.

"Has there been some trouble at the settlement?" Strong-Alder asked, sounding suddenly worried.

"Not that I know, I suppose everything is alright there," Zorro assured. "But not in the pueblo," he added.

"Not our business," the Chumash retorted.

"Yes it is," Zorro calmly said, "as I have come to tell Singing-Wind. I just had an interesting... _conversation_ with Blue-Eagle, but for it to be fruitful, I need to talk to your chief. And to you."

"Funny, the Señora here has come with the same request," Strong-Alder replied.

"Her presence is not needed now," the outlaw sated. "Besides... isn't that Don Diego's horse, Señora?"

"It is," she confirmed in a voice that sounded a lot like a 'so what?'

"Well, you can ride back to the de la Vega hacienda, then. Don Alejandro is currently talking to Blue-Eagle's family, and I am on my way to discuss the situation with–"

"Good, I'm going to discuss it too. I have something to–"

"Señora," Zorro cut her, "the Chumash don't know you. But they know me, and they know and trust Don Alejandro. You'd better go back–"

She didn't let him finish: she made the most of Strong-Alder's moment of inattention and grabbed the reins while giving Esperanza's sides a small kick of her heels, urging the mare straight ahead on the path to where the settlement seemed to be.

Behind his mask, Diego sighed: this woman's well-meaning meddling was really insufferable! Couldn't she just _listen_ , once in a while?


	98. Ch 98 - The blooming cactus

The settlement was indeed very close, not even a quarter of a mile from the stream, and despite his annoyance at Araceli Strong-Alder helped her dismount – there was chivalry among the Chumash too, it seemed. The houses, or rather the huts, were organised in what seemed to be different 'neighbourhoods' of five to ten houses each, separated by trees and rocks, scattered over five or six acres.

Strong-Alder tied Esperanza to an oak on the edge of the settlement and he guided Araceli to a nearby hut.

"Wait here," he simply ordered her while he left her outside and got inside.

Zorro quickly reached the settlement too and joined her.

"You're wasting your time, Señora; Don Alejandro and I were already taking care of the matter."

"Never discourage good intentions..." Araceli replied. "That's what my mother often says."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions..." Zorro retorted. "I didn't mean to offend your mother's good principles, but... you don't know these people, you don't know their habits or their rules... and they don't know you."

"Well, we're precisely in the process of getting acquainted, now! That way they will know me, and I will know them. I already know the names of three of them: Strong-Alder, Blue-Eagle, and now this Singing-Wind you have come to meet. Their _names_ , Señor, which is still more than I know of _you_. Than _anyone_ in Los Angeles knows of you."

Zorro took the blow and didn't say anything. Deep down, Araceli was right: she now knew more of Strong-Alder – his name and his face – than Victoria knew of him. Of _him-Zorro_ , that is.

"By the way," she asked him after the short silence, "what exactly is this Singing-Wind for the Chumash? A shaman? An elder? A chief?"

"A little bit of all of the above," Zorro answered. "But mainly the chief. Of some sort..."

She nodded.

"And Strong-Alder...?" Araceli asked further. "You said you wanted to talk to him too. What is he in this group...?" she asked, showing the whole settlement.

"Hmm... he is somehow one of Singing-Wind's advisers... mostly on medicinal matters but not only... He manages the funds too, so he is also some 'treasurer' for them."

She nodded silently and didn't add anything else. For a good minute they simply stood side by side, two feet apart from the other, and Araceli thought how easy it would be to just get a bit closer and then swiftly raise her hand and snatch this black piece of fabric away from his face. And then, just like that, she'd know. She'd know the identity of the man who knew her secret, or at least she'd know his face. She'd know the biggest secret of the man who already knew hers. Seemed fair enough...

Right now he didn't even seem to be on his guard. It suddenly was such a tempting idea... She slowly and idly took a step to the side, getting a slight bit closer. Seemed so easy...

But Alejandro wouldn't agree. He said that the man's anonymity was the only thing between him and a noose. And Alejandro liked this man. Admired him, even. And respected his choice, anyway. He'd be far too disappointed in her if she did anything like that.

Well, except if he didn't know she did, right?

No. No, she couldn't risk losing Alejandro's trust and perhaps even his friendship just because of an outlaw. But Pascual's safety was at stake here... Did she have the right to put the good opinion Alejandro had of her and the state of their relationship before a man's safety...?

Deep down she didn't want to tear this mask away from this face anymore, now, yet she took another closer step anyway. A man's life was perhaps at stake here, she didn't have the right to put her personal considerations first.

On the other hand, nothing indicated that this bandit had said anything to anyone about that all along the past six months, so...

She was saved from her musings and dilemma when Strong-Alder finally got out of the hut, soon followed by a shrunken though dignified grey-haired man with a parched wrinkled swarthy skin and almond-shaped gleaming eyes. Singing-Wind, she supposed.

"Black-Fox..." he greeted the bandit in a neural tone of voice. Then his shining eyes turned to her. "Strong-Alder is right, you are a new face here..." he told her matter-of-factly. "So, you two wanted to see me?"

"My respects, Singing-Wind," the outlaw said. "Have you heard of an unpleasant incident caused by Blue-Eagle in the pueblo's tavern earlier in the afternoon?"

The old man's face twisted into a frown.

"Oh, yes. Blue-Eagle is being... a bit difficult lately. I heard that he had an inappropriate behaviour toward the owner, and that once more he had drank a little too much. I will talk to him."

"I just did, in fact," Zorro informed him.

"With all due respect, Black-Fox, you're not one of us. You're not even Indian – as far as I know. So your words don't bear as much weight as mine. To Blue-Eagle and his family, I mean."

Zorro pinched his lips but didn't say anything else than:

"Don Alejandro de la Vega is currently having the same kind of talk with them, right now. Just so that you know..."

"I do, he stopped by me first to pay his respects and then said he too would have to talk to me afterwards. I suppose it has to do with Blue-Eagle's... scene."

"Indirectly so, yes," Araceli said, speaking for the first time. "Or rather with the consequences it resulted in for you all, unfortunately."

Singing-Wind looked at her inquiringly.

"Sorry," she said, "I'm forgetting my manners: my name is Araceli Ximénez de Valdès and you are right, I am not from Los Angeles. But I am a friend of Don Alejandro."

A _close_ friend, Zorro remarked inwardly.

And with a few words, Araceli exposed the whole situation about the alcade's new ban on Indians from the tavern.

"It's nothing to do with Señorita Escalante," Zorro clarified, "in fact she was rather incensed at this new rule, as well as at its unfairness."

Strong-Alder simply shrugged.

"For my part," he said, "I never set foot in this tavern, so it won't change anything to my everyday life."

"But that's not the point," Araceli retorted, "I mean: it's a matter of principle. And also... today it's the tavern, but if people let this be, then next month it will be the blacksmith's shop you'll be banned from, and then the market where you can sell your terracotta products or your baskets, then why not the orphanage, and next thing the Chumash will be banned from the whole pueblo..."

"As a matter of fact, it already happened in the past," Zorro said. "Remember, Singing-Wind, when emissary Escanto forbade any Indian to enter the pueblo at the risk of being flogged..."

"What?" Araceli let out. "Don Alejandro never told me about that..."

"I remember..." Strong-Alder sourly mumbled.

"And how was the matter resolved?" Araceli asked.

"Don Alejandro and Don Diego had the emissary believe he had been targeted by an Indian curse as retaliation and–"

"Oh!" she said, "that's incredible! Believe it or not, it's more or less the suggestion I was about to make to Singing-Wind and Strong-Alder!"

Zorro eyed her sceptically.

"Well, we'd better not try twice the same trick..." he told her. "It might not work this time..."

"It's worth the try anyway," she replied, a bit peeved.

"De Soto will not be fooled twice," Zorro said.

"If he is frustrated enough," she retorted, "he may become more receptive than you seem to think..."

"Frustrated...? How so, _frustrated_...?"

"If you'd be so kind as to stop interrupting, Señor Black-Fox," she told him in an edgy tone of voice, "perhaps by now you'd know what I mean...?"

Under the mask, Diego closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath to prevent himself from simply throttling her.

"Pease go on," he finally said, "we're all ears."

"The idea is this one: if the Chumash can't enjoy a good meal or a good wine at the tavern, then the alcalde won't enjoy his food and drink anymore," Araceli explained. "With Señorita Escalante's complicity as well as Don Alejandro's, the alcalde would be served the blandest dishes and the most insipid beverage that could be. Or the worst-tasting wine ever. And we'll make it pass as a curse in retaliation to the ban."

The three men seemed to ponder on it for a few seconds.

"After all..." Singing-Wind pensively said, "there is not much to lose in trying..."

"Exactly," Araceli replied. "And this plan needs your shaman to come to the alcalde and pronounce a mock malediction about the taste of food in his palate."

Zorro seemed clearly sceptical, but Singing-Wind declared, after some thinking:

"I will do that. After all, even if it doesn't work, I like the idea of him not eating anything remotely tasteful, I must say. You have... creative ideas, young Señora."

She had a please lopsided grin, but she then replied:

"As a matter of fact, I owe this one to Señor Zorro here."

Surprised, the outlaw turned to her.

"Me?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Or rather to the incident you caused with the bottle of vinegar and Señorita Escalante's wine... I'm curious to see the alcalde's face when he tastes a beverage of this kind, especially if we all assure him that it's the best wine we've ever tasted..." she added with a wink at Singing-Wind.

The old chief had a conniving smile.

"You are a really mischievous person," he told her, "although a rather restive one."

"Restive?" she asked, a bit offended.

Singing-Wind smiled again, as well as Zorro.

"Well, Strong-Alder used a different word earlier inside my hut, if I remember well..."

She didn't look too pleased, contrary to Zorro who chuckled.

"Fractious...?" he suggested.

Strong-Alder had a knowing smile for both the outlaw and the chief, and Araceli wasn't too pleased with the turn this conversation was taking at her expense.

"Please Señores, don't mind me, just pretend I'm not even here..."

"Oh, yes," Strong-Alder told his chief, "I forgot to tell you that she's also quite touchy..."

Singing-Wind smiled again but didn't reply. Instead he turned to her and said:

"You are like a cactus, as prickly as it and your many lovely frills and ribbons are like colourful cactus-flowers, but you are also brave-hearted. And indeed, White-Mustang wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't a worthy and valiant soul."

Araceli didn't particularly appreciated being compared with a cactus, but she didn't have time to dwell on it because Singing-Wind's second sentence was totally abstruse to her.

"I beg your pardon...? I'm supposed to have been chosen by what?"

"White-Mustang," Zorro provided. "That's how they named Don Alejandro years ago."

"Oh..." she simply said, her eyebrows shooting high up her forehead. She chuckled. "I'm sure he loves his Indian name," she added with an amused smile.

For once, Zorro smiled with her. But she soon got the whole meaning of Singing-Wind's last sentence and puzzledly asked:

"What do you mean– er... how do you..."

"How do we know who you are, you mean?" Singing-Wind asked. "We may live outside the pueblo, we interact with the Los Angelinos enough to have heard of the recent... _developments_ in White-Mustang's life..."

"And when you told us earlier that you are a friend of his," Strong-Alder added, "we just... How is the saying, already? 'Put two and two together', right?"

Araceli very slowly nodded.

"I see..." she simply said.

"I've already had the opportunity to congratulate him, although very tardily, for his daughter's birth. Now please accept my congratulations to you, Señora."

Strong-Alder raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"Gracias, Chief Singing-Wind," she politely replied.

The older man then turned to Zorro and raised his head at him.

"In fact the lady's idea won't cost much to us, and I find it amusing, even if it doesn't give any result. So I'm with Frilly-Hedgehog on this and I will go to the pueblo tomorrow."

Once again, Araceli seemed a bit lost in the conversation and frowned inquisitively. She turned to Zorro for another translation of the older man's rather unclear words.

"What's this frilly hedgehog, now?" she asked

This time, the masked face that the outlaw turned toward her was sporting a wide grin:

"I think it's you," he simply said, smiling from ear to ear.

Araceli's nostrils flared a bit and her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. Too dumbfounded for that, Diego thought. For his part he was amused to no length and relished the moment. Strong-Alder's face mirrored his, but out of respect for his chief he didn't say anything and let him do the talking.

"Alright," Singing-Wind said, "as I was saying, I will go to the pueblo in order to... er... _curse_ your alcalde. Or rather to _fake_ a curse on him for his new rule..."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

On the way back, just as Zorro was bidding her goodbye in a polite lip service, Araceli suddenly thought that she could have waited for Alejandro and ridden home with him. Well, too late, she'd see him at home and expose him her plan. And after all, Señorita Escalante was invited for dinner tonight, so she'd kill two birds with one stone and tell her of it at the same time. That way, Alejandro, Don Diego and the innkeeper would be briefed during dinner!

"Hmm?" Araceli asked the outlaw. "Sorry, you were saying...?"

"Just bidding you a safe ride back to the de la Vega hacienda. And telling you to take good care of this mare, it's not yours," he said, patting Esperanza's neck.

"I know that, Señor Black-Fox, but Don Diego is far more gracious than you are: he certainly wouldn't resent me for borrowing his horse for a good cause."

He didn't find a suitable retort, so he kept silent and gave the mare another pat, before doing the same to his own mount.

Despite her annoyance at the outlaw, Araceli couldn't help but notice how beautiful his horse was. Purely wonderful. And come to think of that, this stallion was almost a black version of Blanca-Luna, Dulcinea's offspring... It didn't strike her at first because this one was as pitch black as Blanca-Luna was fair-furred, but now that she was taking a close look at it...

_Bah, whatever._

"Well, uh... Goodbye, Señor Zorro."

He silently nodded and then turned his horse in the opposite direction, telling her before urging his stallion in a gallop:

"Hasta la vista, Doña Frilly-Hedgehog!"

_Arrrgh, that man, really!_


	99. Ch 99 - Battle plan over dinner

"Araceli, with all due respect, it was utterly foolish!"

Alejandro was having trouble calming down. When he earlier went to talk with Singing-Wind he heard of her visit and of her suggestion, and although he liked the idea of tormenting de Soto a bit, he couldn't believe she had come to the Chumash settlement on her own at the risk of finding a far less well-disposed Indian than either Singing-Wind or even Strong-Alder had been. With the late tensions between the Chumash Indians and the pueblo, they were being a bit... edgy, right now.

Or... what if she had stumbled upon an angry or drunk Blue-Eagle, for instance? And she was calling _him_ reckless and rash?

"Well, _you_ were currently riding to their settlement too," she told him. "What was _I_ supposed to do? How was _I_ supposed to feel until you came home?" she asked him rather accusingly. "I had an idea after I left the alcade's office and you didn't even care to ask me what I had to suggest..."

"It seemed your main concern was about Señor Guzmán, then..." Alejandro muttered.

"Of course I'm worried for him! Aren't you? For Heaven's sake, he's in _jail_ right now!"

"I know, I know, and I feel concerned too, but de Soto won't dare go too far, I'm sure."

"Oh, you're sure!?" she retorted. "Well, that's certainly a warm comfort to him right now to know that you're sure..."

For once, Alejandro didn't know what to answer.

Araceli seemed to regret her harsh retort and told him in a much softer voice:

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to snap at you... it's just that..."

She sighed and then chuckled a very little bit. A chuckle without any joy in it.

"I now better understand your frustration at your alcalde. The man is just... just..."

Apparently Araceli didn't find a suitable enough word to describe de Soto. Or rather, she was too polite and well-mannered to say it aloud!

Alejandro seemed to understand her unfinished sentence and her feeling on the matter, because he simply took her hand in both of his and gave it a light squeeze. Then after keeping this contact a bit longer than appropriate between two friends, he let go of it.

"Well, er..." he mumbled, "please just promise me you won't roam the hills around Los Angeles alone or try anything heedless without sharing your thoughts with me first..."

Part of Araceli had already realised earlier that day that the surroundings were a bit more dangerous than she first thought, and that as a stranger she'd better listen to the locals who knew better... But the most independent part of her hated to hear him sound slightly patronising to her: he wasn't entitled to grant her any permission to go wherever she wanted to go... or to forbid her to do so! She was her own woman and hated for other people to think that she depended from any man's agreement, decision or protection.

So she didn't promise anything, but assured Alejandro that his request was duly noted, and that she'd consider his advice on the matter in the future.

"Thank you," he said, fully aware that he wouldn't get anything better from her than this prudently phrased sort of promise. "It's just that..."

He paused, sighing.

"Really," he then grumbled a bit, "I don't understand this new need you have lately to... to..."

"Is that so hard to understand?" she asked him.

He looked at her, rather at a loss.

"It's just... it's just that I'm afraid," she simply added, like it explained everything.

Yet to Alejandro, it didn't explain anything at all.

"Afraid?" he asked, instinctively taking her hand again in order to reassure her, to have her know that he was here for her and that she wouldn't have anything to fear with him by her side. "Afraid of what?"

She sighed, apparently out of frustration.

"Not afraid _of,_ Alejandro..." she answered. "Afraid _for_ ," she corrected. "Afraid _for you_ , you dear fool!"

Alejandro looked at her, dumbfounded.

She freed her hand from his and began pacing the sala:

"At the drop of a hat, you often jump in the saddle immediately and rush into the heart of the fight, figuratively speaking or not. Without a care for your own safety. So that's why I am afraid for you. Afraid of the possible consequences. So I... er... I foolishly do exactly the same. In your place, I mean. Instead of you. I just don't want you to... er... I just want to keep my daughter's father safe, you see... And on second thought, I am glad you didn't go to the alcalde earlier, because right now you could be the one who'd be in Señor Guzmán's place!"

"Oh, as a matter of fact I already had the dubious pleasure of the acalde's hospitality some years ago," Alejandro told her, "just like too many of my fellow Los Angelinos, but that's water under the bridge now... Contrary to what you seem to think, I've learned of that, and I'm now more prudent with him: I try to keep my temper in check with this man, because anyway trying to appeal to him is just wasting one's breath... I've grown wiser than you give me credit for."

"Well, perhaps," she said, "but this afternoon I'm not that sure you'd have managed to keep your temper in check: what's bred in the bone comes out in the flesh..."

"Why?"Alejandro asked, "What happened? What did de Soto do?"

Araceli shrugged and didn't answer.

"Whatever, that's not the point here," she simply said.

"Look," he gently told her to appease her worries, "tomorrow morning if the alcalde hasn't freed your Señor Guzmán, I'll go–"

"He's not _my_ Señor Guzmán!" she protested.

"Alright, alright," Alejandro said, bowing to her, "Well, I'll go to de Soto's office to have a few words with him – _polite_ words, I swear!" he added when he saw the rather apprehensive look in her eyes, "and I will also call for Don Luis Cristobal in Santa Barbara..."

"Your lawyer..." Araceli remembered.

"Yes. I'll ask him to defend Señor Guzmán."

"But it will be two more days before he comes here!"

"I know my dear," Alejandro told her regretfully, "but I can't give more than I have, and I can't make Santa Barbara closer form Los Angeles than it is!"

"Yes, yes, of course Alejandro. Please excuse me, I'm being... unreasonable. My apologies. And thank you for him. I'm just feeling bad because it's because of me that–"

She stopped.

"Will you finally tell me why exactly what happened in that office," Alejandro asked, "and why precisely de Soto arrested him?"

Araceli looked at him, and then she offered him an unnerving smile.

"No," she teasingly said with a raised eyebrow at him. "What is said in the alcade's office is to remain in the alcalde's office," she added with another smile.

Then she took a step closer and leaned to his cheek, dropping a peck on it.

"But thank you for everything that you are doing..." she told him in a soft voice before exiting the room to get changed for dinner.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Victoria, my dear," Alejandro told his guest during dinner, "Blue-Eagle shouldn't make trouble in your tavern anymore now, even once this ridiculous ban is lifted: his mother is going to have a serious talk with him, as well as his wife, and even Singing-Wind and Strong-Alder are going to put their two cent in it. And... well, I don't think you know Blue-Eagle's mother, but if you did, you certainly wouldn't want to get on her bad side!"

He chuckled, as well as Diego. Apparently he too knew that woman and shared his father's opinion on her.

"Not to mention this Strong-Alder," Araceli added. "He seems to be rather grumpy, and he is really impressively build: even your Zorro looked almost a bit like a lanky beanpole compared with him."

_"Lanky beanpole?"_ Diego couldn't help but echo with a hint of hurt in his voice, which fortunately no one noticed except Felipe who chuckled up his sleeve.

Araceli for her part welcomed the change of direction Alejandro just gave to the dinner's conversation: before he brought up the recent incident in the tavern, he had spent the major part of the main course visibly testing the waters with Victoria, asking about how she envisioned her future, discreetly inquiring about her life and expectations, and finally probing whether having children was primordial to her or on the contrary if she could envision a life without children provided she found a man she would be really happy with...

Araceli didn't like this conversation too much: it really sounded like Alejandro finally considered taking the ultimate plunge and suing for her hand. All this talk made her suspect that Alejandro was preparing to propose marriage to Señorita Escalante, with a 'no children' clause in it: he probably considered that he was now too old to raise another child or he would run the risk of not even seeing his youngest little one become an adult...

A wise precaution, Araceli thought. And to her surprise, Señorita Escalante seemed to begin to seriously think about the idea, even though she didn't really say anything. Araceli didn't understand: hadn't she seen a longing in this woman's eyes when she had been looking at Leonor six months earlier...? Hadn't she sounded like she envied Araceli's motherhood at the time...? So why the change, now? Was Alejandro really so important to her?

What surprised Araceli even more, though, was that Don Diego didn't seem to like this conversation either... Like he was itching to ask his father to drop the topic. _Strange_ , Araceli reflected, she thought he liked Señorita Escalante and wasn't especially eager to have to share his father with one more younger sibling... And yet he looked very ill-at-ease, visibly whishing that Alejandro would talk about anything else. Decidedly, she'd never know what was happening inside this man's mind. But she'd like to.

Thank God, now they were talking about Araceli's plan to bring the alcalde round. And Señorita Escalante seemed to find the idea rather pleasant.

"But do you think you can do that, Victoria?" Don Diego asked. "I mean, you are such a good cook, you make the tastiest dishes and the most subtle seasoning... How could anything you prepare taste plainly bland?" he rhetorically added.

Señorita Escalante was visibly pleased by Don Diego's praise. As was Alejandro, incidentally.

"Well, er... thank you Don Diego," she answered with a becoming blush. "But... you shouldn't challenge, me," she added with a glint in her eyes. "Or you may very well taste the blandest meal you've ever eaten next time you come to have lunch to my tavern..."

"Oh," he replied with mock hurt, "you'd dare to that to me just to prove a point?"

"Without a moment's hesitation!" she retorted with a wide teasing smile. "For instance, will you come tomorrow at lunchtime?"

Diego smiled, like he found her question funnier that it sounded to Araceli's ears.

"Very probably, yes..." he simply answered.

It seemed to make Señorita Escalante truly glad, because her smile widened and turned softer.

"Good," she replied, "I look forward to it..."

This answer seemed to please Alejandro too, and Araceli really wondered if she was missing something.

"By the way," Victoria went on, "the alcalde will certainly have lunch in the tavern tomorrow too, so... what would you all say about sharing your table with him, for once...?" she said with a wink.

Alejandro chuckled:

"Dearest Victoria, I thought you liked us! Why would you subject us to the same sorry diet as his?"

"Because I need accomplices to assure him that this meal is one of the best and the tastiest you ever had the pleasure to eat!"

"And that the vinegar-spiked wine is the sweetest nectar we've ever savoured, too?" Araceli added with a smile. "Well, I guess that, since all this is my idea, I have to set an example and drink the chalice down to the lees, in a manner of speaking. You can count on me."

"For no love or money would I miss de Soto's face at this precise moment," Alejandro added with a wink of his own. "I'm with you."

Felipe pointed at himself and nodded, and Don Diego concluded:

"That will be a party of five then..."

"Yes," his father added. "Leonor is too young to understand the situation, and she'd involuntarily give us away."

"I agree," Araceli said. "She'll stay here with Concepcion."

The pleasant banter went on, but after a few minutes Alejandro noticed that Araceli had curiously come silent, and barely picked at what was left of salad in her plate. He covered her hand with his and squeezed it lightly:

"Araceli, my dear, is something the matter? Are you unwell?"

"Oh? No, no, I'm alright. I was just... thinking: while we are here enjoying this delicious meal, Don Rodrigo is in a cell, where he is probably having some sorry broth with plain water before spending the night on a wooden board..."

"Well, I can't do anything for the cot," Victoria said, "but before coming here I brought him a basket full of good things: tamales, ham, pozole, a portion of almond cake, and apples. Oh, and a flask of wine too."

"Gracias for him Señorita, that's a kind attention. But it still doesn't solve his case... What is to become of him tomorrow? Your alcalde won't... he won't physically harm him, right? Not just for a few words? But on the other hand... this Zorro outlaw said earlier today that a few years ago the Indians were briefly banned from the pueblo and that they were to be flogged if they were caught within its borders... Is that right?"

"Yes, unfortunately it is," Alejandro grimly answered.

"But don't worry," Victoria said. "At the time, Zorro saved the day and then the–"

"Zorro... _and Diego!"_ Alejandro interjected. "He had a really brilliant plan to make the emissary come back to more Christian thoughts and feelings... And his great knowledge of the local flora and of medicinal plants had really come in handy!"

Araceli saw Don Diego almost choke on the lettuce leaf he had been swallowing when his father was speaking. Poor boy, apparently he really wasn't used to fatherly praises... She was glad that Alejandro had become aware of that, and that he was now doing his best to mend things.

"Yes, you are right of course, Don Alejandro," Señorita Escalante said. "And you took great risks," she added, turning to Don Diego. "Drugging an emissary of the king... it could have had dire consequences for you, had it been discovered."

"I didn't really think of the risks at the time, Victoria... I just wanted to help with my modest means."

"You did more than that, my son: of course Zorro rescued one Indian for one day, but _you_ saved all the tribe for much, much longer. You changed a man's heart Diego, at that is no small thing..."

"Well, you had your part in it too, Father..."

"Your father is right, Diego," Victoria told him. "Zorro save one Indian from the flogging that day, but if not for you and your brilliant idea, he would still have to continuously save them, or they would have had to move away, or... or the situation could have taken a nasty turn between them and us."

Don Diego looked rather taken aback by Señorita Escalante's added praise, and once again Araceli thought that this man certainly didn't hear enough compliments from his family in the past years if he was reacting so surprised to these simple words.

But right now, she still had other things on her mind than Alejandro's son.

"Well," she said, "I'd really love to hear more details about this story one day, but right now Don Rodrigo is still jailed for almost no reason and we don't know what tomorrow's dawn has in store for him," she reminded them.

"Don't worry," Señorita Escalante told her, "I am sure Zorro will come to his help: he, like the rest of us, doesn't like to see innocent people be persecuted by the alcalde. He will do something."

"So once again you all rely on this outlaw to take action for everyone else... I don't like the idea of depending on someone I know nothing of."

"Well, I'm not terribly fond of his anonymity either," Señorita Escalante said, rather irritated herself, "I assure you of that. But it's probably what has prevented him and his relatives from dangling from a rope all these past years, so..."

Yes, it made sense. Señorita Escalante seemed to have given it some thought in the past, and it didn't surprise Araceli anymore after what she heard earlier in the day: apparently and according to a rather acerbic remark Strong-Alder made toward Zorro, she vaguely understood that the outlaw had a romantic interest in the innkeeper, and that at at least some point in the past, this interest had been reciprocated... This explained Señorita Escalante's enthusiasm in Zorro and his fights.

But evidently enough this interest was now over on her part and had probably been for quite some time, according to what Strong-Alder told Zorro just before they left the settlement, when he reproached him to have gone to Blue-Eagle without any representative of the tribe with him: _"if I were you I'd keep a closer look on my own private matters than meddle with Blue-Eagle's... Or don't you mind anymore now about the tavern owner? In that case you won't mind that a man has been seen sneaking out of her tavern through the back door just before dawn... And more than once... A man who is obviously not a traveller staying at the inn..."_

It told Araceli two things: Señorita Escalante had visibly stopped being interested in the outlaw long ago, and her relationship with Alejandro was indeed even more advanced than she had suspected.

And this knowledge hadn't brightened her already rather irritated mood after her bumpy encounters with Strong-Alder and Zorro, two of the most annoying people she had met since she set foot in Los Angeles for the first time six months earlier!


	100. Ch 100 - Failure

When Diego yawned conspicuously at the end of dinner, Victoria knew he was going to pretend being sleepy as an excuse not to have to escort her back to the tavern. Which, quite paradoxically, made her almost sure that he would indeed join her there before she went to bed. He had told her about his father's new obsession with systematically waiting for him to come back home each time he had escorted her back to the tavern at night lately.

"Do you think he suspects anything...?" she had previously asked Diego, a little bit alarmed.

"No, I don't think so," he had answered. "I rather think he is... worried about your opinion of him. At least that's how I see it: he always asks me what we have chatted about, whether we talked about Leonor, how you are with her, what you think of her... And also what you think of her mother," he had added after a slight hesitation.

"Oh, do you think Don Alejandro fears I could think poorly of him because of... because he had a child?" she had asked. "If only he knew..."

"Well, for the moment he doesn't know, or we'd be in trouble," Diego had replied with a poor smile. "But his systematic waiting for my return is complicating things, I must say. I'll try to find a way to circumvent that, next time."

So that's probably how Diego had come up with faking tiredness to avoid having to escort her back to the pueblo. Poor Diego! Victoria felt a bit guilty that he had to lie to his father for her. Because of her, Diego de la Vega had developed a deceiving side; and since when was he so good at lying, faking and finding excuses? _Yes,_ Victoria reflected: she really had a bad influence on him. But again she told her guilty conscience that it was for a good cause, and that past his initial probable anger and disappointment in both of them, Don Alejandro would surely become very fond of his grandson or granddaughter. If ever they finally managed to conceive one, that is.

Hiding her sigh, she smiled at Diego, ostensibly bidding him:

"Have a good night's sleep, Don Diego. Get all the rest you need, I hope you'll be in good shape next time we meet."

And just when she was watching his reaction at her innuendo, Don Alejandro chivalrously volunteered to escort her back to the tavern instead of Diego.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

 _They don't even really hide from Don Diego and Felipe anymore, now!_ Araceli inwardly thought when Alejandro offered Señorita Escalante to take her home.

Well, she knew it was useless to wait for Alejandro's return, at least not before dawn anyway. Better go to bed immediately and forget about it. And indeed, Don Diego too seemed to think his father wouldn't come back before some time, because he just bid her a good night and left to his own bedroom.

All right, just a quick good night kiss to a probably already asleep Leonor, and then off to bed too! And in fact, the sooner she'd fall asleep the better. After all, there was no reason she'd let anything trouble her beauty sleep, right?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Despite Diego's reassurances, Victoria wasn't totally convinced that his father wasn't suspecting anything: he spent all the ride back to the pueblo trying to make idle talk about her take on life, future, couple... and even whether or not she would envisage her life without children. And also, talking to her about Diego and trying to indirectly ask her what she thought of him. What she thought of him as a _man_ , that is. Not just as a person or as a family friend.

Yes, Don Alejandro de la Vega wasn't born yesterday and was probably not as blind as his son thought he was...

Once arrived at the tavern, Victoria thanked him for the dinner as well as for the ride, and she bid him a good night, a bit apprehensive of what opinion _he_ would have of _her_. Or of his own son. But what was encouraging was that at least he didn't seem to be angry: he had been as nice and good-natured as ever with her.

Not really knowing what all this really was about, she shrugged, unlocked the kitchen's back door and went to her bedroom, more than half-expecting Diego to join her there not too long later...

In fact, she should think about giving him a spare key of this back door, she reflected.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"I'm sorry," Diego murmured dejectedly, sitting up on the mattress and turning his naked back to her. Facing the wall, sitting on the edge of the bed with his bare feet on the wooden floor, his stooped shoulders, his back bent forward, his elbows on his knees and his head hanging down hidden in his hands, he looked like the epitome of despondency.

"Erm... that's alright," came Victoria's hesitant soft voice from the other side of the bed behind him.

"I... I... I don't know what's happening to me..." he stuttered. "I swear I... I..."

"That's alright Diego," Victoria quietly repeated.

"No that's not!" he replied a bit too strongly. "Sorry," he then told her in a much softer voice, "I didn't want to... to... to raise my voice. Although it's the only thing I seem to be able to raise right now..."

He had still not moved one bit from his position, and Victoria didn't really dare get closer either. So she just sat up on the mattress and leaned back a bit against her bed's headboard.

"Don't feel bad about it, Diego," she told him softly. "We're not obliged to... er... we don't necessarily _have_ to always–"

"It's not that I don't _want_ to, I assure you..." he said, still not facing her. "It's not that I don't want you, I swear! I DO want you, but..."

He let out a very heavy sigh and his head sank even lower in his hands. Now his fingers were entwined behind his skull through his dark strands of dishevelled hair.

"I don't understand..." he finally whispered. "It's not you, it's me... But I don't understand," he repeated with another sigh. "I'm sorry."

Victoria still didn't know how to react. She wanted to reassure him, to comfort him even, but he had drawn back to the very edge of the mattress and turned away from her, so she wasn't sure he'd welcome the contact of her hand on his back.

Still, she kneeled on the mattress and got a little bit closer, taking care not to touch him: the last thing she wanted was for him to either flinch or get further away from her.

"Don't blame yourself," she finally gently told him. "It can happen to just any man... Well, as far as I have heard, of course."

But it didn't do much to heighten his spirits, though.

"Any man except _me_ ," he said a bit grumpily. "Well at least that's what I thought until a couple of days ago..."

"It's only the third time in three days, Diego... Don't worry yourself sick over it just yet! It will probably be better in a few days. Perhaps you shouldn't think too much about it and it will go away!"

He was still stubbornly facing the wall and didn't move one bit.

"Aren't you the one usually reproaching me for thinking that doing nothing and just waiting makes problems go away?" he rhetorically asked her.

Well, impotency was making him rather grumpy, Victoria reflected.

"Excuse me," he told her, regretting his retort. "I'm the one letting you down and on top of things I'm now snapping at you... I apologise. For everything. It's just that... I told myself it was nothing the two previous times, but now..."

Victoria sensed that he was slowly lowering his defence so she dared raise a hand to his back and very lightly put it on his shoulder. He started a bit but didn't flinch away from her, so after one more second she fully rested her hand against his skin. Under it, she felt how tense his shoulder was.

"Perhaps we shouldn't try too hard," she told him wisely. "And perhaps we shouldn't think too much about making a baby. Maybe we should just... enjoy the ride and not think about the outcome or anything else...? Maybe we're too... maybe we are putting ourselves under too much pressure? Perhaps that's precisely the problem?"

"Or perhaps the problem is _me_ ," he replied despondently.

Victoria saw him open his mouth as if he was about to add something, but he apparently changed his mind and shut it immediately. She was rather glad for it: he was being a bit too negative about it all, tonight.

"Let's just let a couple of days go by..." she told him. "And don't think too much about it. Now," she said putting her other hand on his other shoulder, "lie back again and let's have some rest together," she added softly. "We'll sleep it off over the night."

For lack of other pleasant activities, she wanted to simply cuddle and snuggle against him under the bedcover: she liked that, and she loved when they fell asleep in each other's arms.

"No... no, I have to go," he said, finally moving but only to stand up.

In the moonlit room, Victoria guessed the white shape of his naked body and she held back a sigh of frustration: now was not the time to think about her own physical needs, not when Diego's mood was so down in the dumps.

She got up too and went to him before he reached his clothes on the wall hanger.

"Diego, don't go now, please..." she told him, encircling is waist with her arms. "Stay the night, like usual..."

But Diego gently unclasped her hands behind his back and freed himself from her.

"No, it's better that I go now," he firmly stated. "For all the use I am to you tonight, anyway..." he added through gritted teeth.

Victoria's features fell, but through the dimness in the room Diego couldn't see it.

"I thought it was something else than... well, than purely... physical, for you," she said. "I know it's always been about a child and not about love between us of course, but... I thought we had developed at least some deeper level of... affection and tenderness for each other these past months. But apparently it was only me," she added a bit sharply.

She took a step back and folded her arms. In this stance, her naked figure was rather funny but Diego was too preoccupied to take notice.

"It's not that," he replied. "Of course I do feel as much... affection, and more, and I really like spending a whole night with you. But I have to go. And anyway... we've not been prudent enough. I mean, _I_ have not been prudent enough: apparently I have been seen leaving your tavern at dawn."

"Who?" Victoria asked, slightly alarmed. "Who saw you?"

"Indians," Diego simply answered. "But perhaps they were not the only ones. Perhaps other people here saw us, but were decent enough not to spread the word. Yet."

"I still think your father knows something."

"I don't think so. But still," he said, finally grabbing his clothes, "I'm going home."

She took his trousers from him.

"Don't you really want to stay?" she asked, snuggling against his chest.

"Dearest Victoria," he sighed while she was gently kissing his shoulder, "the matter is not what I want, but what is best."

But she didn't let go of him. Instead, she lightly and soothingly ran the knuckles of her bent fingers along his spine.

"It's useless, Victoria," he went on, mistaking her gesture for what it was not. "We already know I'm not fully responsive tonight, as you can see. In fact, I'm really a failure to the core, it seems."

"What? Don't say that, Diego! It's just–"

"Victoria... let's face it: despite our many and frequent tries, I've not managed to father a child these past six months, and now I'm not even able to... well, to only _try!_ I'm truly failing you. On all counts, now. I'm sorry, I really wasn't a lucky draw for you when you chose to ask me..."

"Don't talk rubbish, Diego!" Victoria said against his neck. "You're just a bit downhearted right now, but you will see things in a brighter light in a few days and it will be better."

And with these words she stood on tiptoe and raised her head, leaning forward, clearly aiming at his lips...


	101. Ch 101 - The ditch

The first time ever Diego had kissed her lips had been both a sweet and burning thing, done in the heat of the moment right in the middle of lovemaking. Hot, gentle, lustful and wet, just like lovemaking itself. The pressure of his lips on hers had matched that of their bodies against each other, and the rhythm of his tongue's soft thrusts inside her mouth and against her own tongue had matched that of his hip thrusts lower down inside her.

At first she had been taken by surprise and had almost frozen for a split second at this unexpected kiss, but then she had very soon revelled in the sweetly intense new sensations it had been arousing in her and had immediately reciprocated and mirrored this added kind of ministration to their intimacy. Until then, they had already been kissing each other's skin of course, during foreplays or lovemaking, and intensively so: neck, cheek, shoulder, knee, back, temple, belly, thighs, forehead, ankle, breast, wrist, nape, everywhere. Absolutely _everywhere_. Even... well, _absolutely_ everywhere. Except _there:_ on the mouth. On the lips.

Until then, they had kissed each other's skin, had been giving kisses to each other, but they had never _shared_ a kiss. And once Victoria finally tasted it, she regretted they didn't add this particular spice to their lovemaking sooner.

Yes. But until this very night, their kisses had been confined to her bed. To lovemaking. They never talked about it, never even brushed the subject, certainly never discussed it, but it was like some tacit agreement between them: it was not like they were courting, or in love, or sweethearts or whatever that sort, no: it was just part of lovemaking. Full stop. They only kissed while making love, and just that.

So why was she feeling right now this desire to kiss him? To _share_ a kiss with him? It was clear enough nothing more would happen tonight, he was obviously in no condition despite her efforts, so _why?_ One more mystery about herself and her own desire to which even _she_ couldn't find an explanation.

But what she knew for sure was that she was feeling a pull to his lips, so she brought her watery mouth even closer to his.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Diego had swallowed many a blow to his ego since the day he made up Zorro: people's contempt, his father's disappointment, Victoria's disinterest, public scorn... Now add to this the new and perhaps unfounded but still very disturbing dread that he might never be able to have children... as well as Victoria's stubborn blind worship of this not really existing mirage of a masked heroic persona he had created...

Yes, Diego de la Vega had taken much in the last years, and without even batting an eyelid, but Victoria leaning in to his lips was perhaps the last straw: he was a strong man and could take much, but not her pity.

At least not that way. Who knows, perhaps he might have accepted a pity fuck, but _not_ a pity kiss. Never! Not from her. She probably meant well and didn't see it as an insult, he thought, but in fact it would be the worst outrage she could subject him to.

No, Diego de la Vega still had what was left of his pride, and he hadn't turned so pathetic yet that he'd accept a pity kiss from the woman he loved...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria looked puzzled and even remained a bit stupidly dazed for a split second when, as her mouth had been less than a quarter of an inch from his and about to brush his lips, he pushed her back with his hands on her arms and took a step back from her, releasing her immediately after.

What... what was going into him? Didn't he want even so much as a gentle kiss?

But she soon realised what she had almost done. A kiss! A kiss, for God's sake! She had slightly overstepped the unspoken mark, the thin line between their friendly deal and... and... and another kind of relationship. And he had just kindly but firmly reminded her what it really was about between the two of them.

What it was _to him_.

"Please forgive my manners Don Diego," she told him rather formally, a bit hurt. "Listen," she went on with a mellowed voice, "tonight we're just a bit... tense..."

Diego couldn't help a snort, but she didn't let him wallow in his self-pity:

"Let's wait a few days and come back the day after tomorrow, or the days even after, or at the end of the week. And this time whatever happens, or not, make sure to spend the night with me. Please..." she added almost beggingly.

He looked at her as thought he was about to promise he'd accept, but he then seemed to change his mind. He raised her hand to his lips, dropped a light kiss on the back of it and then gently took a step back.

"Victoria..." he finally said, "I have... We have... It... I'm afraid I wasn't a good choice for you... for this project... I'm not... I can't... Obviously I can't..."

Hanging his head and setting his gaze on his feet, he let out a very heavy sigh. I made him aware that he was still stark naked so he grabbed his trousers from the bed, where Victoria had thrown it a minute earlier.

"Let's face it, Victoria," he said, slipping them on, "I'm unable to give you this child."

He buttoned up his trousers and reached out to his shirt.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Diego," Victoria softly told him, being for once the one sounding sensible and reasonable. "We don't know for sure that we really can't... And even if... I mean, nothing proves that in fact _I_ am not the one who cannot–"

She seemed to be fishing at anything to retain him, to keep him. Diego interrupted her by gently putting his hand on her cheek, half cupping half caressing it.

"Dearest Victoria..." he told her in a soft voice, "I know what you are trying to do, and be sure that it means a lot to me, but..."

He sighed again.

"Honesty commands that I stop deluding myself. I would have really wanted to have a child with you, I swear! Really. It was a beautiful dream... But I can't give you that. I'm sorry. You... you..."

He paused to sigh again.

"If you really want children, then I'm afraid you'll have to seek this from another man," he finished in a painful murmur.

Victoria's heart froze at his words. What? No, it couldn't be real! He didn't just call an end to their... to whatever they had been having over the past months! He didn't just... _ditch_ her, did he?

_'From another man'_ , he said? But she didn't want to share children with another man! It had taken her long enough to realise that Diego was the best candidate for the role, but now that she had chosen him, she realised that she didn't envisage any other anymore! Not even sweet and kind Mendoza, not even honest and hard-working José Rivas...

And not even... perhaps not even the ever elusive and slippery Zorro. At least not as long as he had still no face, no name, and no identity to her; and therefore to their very hypothetic children. A shadow couldn't be a father.

"It's better that way, Victoria," Diego finally said, breaking the heavy silence. "At least for you. And perhaps for what little is left of my pride and self-esteem..."

"What!? No Diego, no! And anyway, I'm sure you're jumping to conclusions, we just have to–"

"Victoria, it's wrong of me to take advantage of a situation when I know it's useless... Let's say we're quits of our prom–"

"But it's _not_ useless! I love– I love what we're doing!" Victoria replied. "If nothing else," she added. "Even if... I mean... Please don't... don't take hasty decisions on the spur of the moment, without taking the time for mature consideration..."

She walked to him as he was slipping on his waistcoat.

"Diego..." she told him in a soft voice, gently laying her hands on his forearm.

But he simply shook his head slowly. He bent down to pick up his shoes, grabbed his jacket and walked to the door.

She had a glimmer of hope, though, when instead of opening it he stopped there and turned to her.

"Victoria..." he said.

She looked at him expectantly with big dark shiny eyes, holding her breath, hoping against hope...

"You... er, if you..." he stammered hesitantly. "Victoria... I don't know what you'll decide... I mean, regarding..."

He paused and glanced at her bed.

"But I hope you'll have what you want," he went on, "what will make you happy... whatever it is. Whatever form it takes. I wish you happiness. May you find the family you yearn for."

"Diego, please... Don't give up just now..."

But he raised his index finger to her lips and shook his head. Then he despondently but elegantly bowed over her hand and respectfully kissed it. After that, he reached out to the door knob and was about to open when he turned again to her and added:

"But... if you... if things don't turn... I mean... if you don't... and if you still... er..."

He paused to collect himself.

"What I mean is... if the need arises... Victoria, I'd be very happy to recognise any child you might have..." he finally let out, looking at her intently so that she didn't doubt his sincerity. "If he has not already a willing and decent father, that is. And if you agree for me to, of course..."

He then sharply nodded his goodbye and escaped through the door of her bedroom before she had time to react to his last sentences.

 


	102. Ch 102 - The black silky piece of cloth

Victoria was curled up in her bed, with her nose buried into some piece of silky black fabric that her hands were holding close to her face, entwined with her fingers. She wasn't moving an inch save the even rise and fell of her ribcage under the cover.

 _Even,_ really? Not so much, no, to any attentive external observer who would have been here to watch her. Here and there, some up-heaving of her chest higher or sharper than the others were betraying the fact that she wasn't sleeping. Were they shudders? Silent sobs? What was this edginess, this restlessness keeping her awake at this time of the night? Was it anger? Distress? Sadness? Horniness? Humiliation? Frustration?

When a dark form knocked on her window she started, jumped out of bed, slipped on her chemise, hastily hid the black piece of silky material under her pillow and rushed to open for her visitor.

Just after he silently landed on the wooden floor of her bedroom she leant out of the window.

"No," Zorro told her, "no soldier after me, rest assured."

Then Victoria carefully closed her window and briskly turned to him, folding her arms.

"Long time no see..." she simply told him a bit... reproachfully?

"I... er... Well, Victoria, I..."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You...?" she prompted.

He tilted his head a little bit to the side.

"Well," he replied, mirroring her tone of voice, "you didn't seem too keen on even only addressing me these past weeks or months, whenever I was in town..."

She snorted.

"Whenever you were in town? Oh, you certainly mean when you're just passing by, fight a bit with the soldiers, fence with the alcalde or punch him in the face, and then taunt him with a sarcastic punchline of yours before quickly acknowledging me and then galloping away?"

He took the unexpected blow by cringingly taking a small step back, holding out his hands opened in front of his chest in a seemingly defensive manner.

"I know it's not... it's not the way things should be between us... not the way I should court you," Zorro then told her. "I understand your resentment at me. I know you should have the right to a real courtship, to really spend time with me. Other than the clandestine moments we got to steal, with the constant threat of soldiers finding me... and of the alcalde therefore arresting you and putting you on trial for aiding and abetting a wanted outlaw. I'm sorry, I know you deserve so much more than this, and I would so much want to give you all that!"

Seeing the sincerity of his grief, Victoria mellowed:

"I know you do..." she sighed. "I know... please forgive my foul mood, it's nothing to do with you, in fact."

"Still, you are right," he told her sternly. "You should be allowed to get a life for yourself, and this unending waiting and postponing is killing me too, but I still can't... stop this fight. And it seems I will never be able to finally let the mask down. And to give you the real and honest and open courtship every woman is entitled to."

"It's not so much about the courtship part," Victoria replied. "It's just that... it's making me crazy, not being able to go find you when I would need to, when I worry for you. Not even knowing where to look at or whom to go to just to have some news about you and about your wellbeing... Worrying for you and never knowing if you're doing alright or not until I see you or hear from you again, perhaps weeks later! For all I know, you could be lying dead somewhere and I wouldn't know it before days or weeks. Or months. If ever. You can't know how hard the... the... this _not-knowing_ is."

Zorro looked down at the tip of his boots.

"I'm sorry," he simply said.

He was looking so sincere that Victoria chose to set her own bitterness aside and she took a step closer to him, snuggling against his chest, then encircling her arms around his neck while laying her head cosily nestled on his shoulder.

He hesitantly enfolded her in his arms too, spreading his hands on her back, and she sighed contentedly.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria revelled in this feeling, the feel of his chest against hers, of a _man's_ chest against her, of a man's warm arms around her, of her hands on his neck, of her fingers buried in his strands of hair... except for this damn piece of cloth tied at the back of his head! Oh, yes, it was _Zorro_ here, she remembered. For a split second, she had almost forgotten this fact and thought it was... well, someone else.

Not for the first time, she wondered again what it could be like to make love to him. _Zorro_. Her years-long fantasy. She took a deep breath in, smelling the small part of skin she could have access to, between his collar and his mask. In the crook of his neck. It didn't smell of anything special, but still, it was... exciting.

She kissed this soft piece of white skin. And she heard and felt his sharp intake of breath. _Oh,_ she thought.

 _Yes_ , after all... After all, why not? Since Don Diego didn't want anymore to... And after all, she reflected, she didn't have to answer to Diego de la Vega on anything, and even less now that he had called an end to their rela– _deal!_ To their _deal_.

Zorro, as for him, was here. Now. And in her arms. A few feet away from her bed.

And not turning his back on her. And she was in love with him, right? So yes, why not? Why resisting the pull?

She began nuzzling his neck, and kissing it, and running her hands along his neck. Diego loved it, usually, so she supposed that all the men did. She supposed that _Zorro_ did, too.

He sighed, and she decided to take another step to intimacy and began running her arms up and down the front of his chest, gently nibbling along his jawline at the same time. She had become rather good at that over the past months, because she had noticed that this generally had a positive effect on Diego, who obviously appreciated this kind of ministration.

But not Zorro, it seemed, because he pushed her back.

"Victoria, no."

He sighed and hung his head. She didn't let it deter her and pressed herself all along him again, snaking her arms around his shoulders.

"Shh..." she told him in a whisper, "please just hold me..."

And she just amorously and gently laid her head on his shoulder.

"Victoria, that's not what I've come here for," he retorted in a strangely strangled voice.

And he pushed her back again, taking another step back away from her.

Well, of course he hadn't come for _that_ , but now that he was here, what was keeping them from...?

Of course they had never given into their desire for each other earlier, and tonight again Zorro was denying them the sheer bliss of it, like it was some dreadful thing, like they were not allowed–

Or... or...

Another thought crossed Victoria's mind: perhaps the reason why he was so apprehensive was simply that... Well, perhaps he had never... been initiated to it?

She had never thought about it before, but after all why not? Come to think of that, she didn't know much about this man, and absolutely nought about his past, so it was not totally impossible. Well, if it was the case, Victoria didn't see the problem: she'd happily teach him what she had recently discovered!

Except that, as she could very obviously feel while she had pressed herself against him a few seconds earlier, or more precisely as she could obviously _not_ feel, it was absolutely patent that he did _not_ want her tonight.

She did her best to hide the hurt she was feeling. And since when didn't he call her "mi querida" anymore?

"I er..." Zorro began to say, not looking straight in her eyes. "The reason I've come... As a matter of fact, all the reproaches you were telling me about earlier, all your worries... well, they are justified."

He made himself look at her and cleared his throat.

"You were right," he finally told her. "This situation is eating away at our lives. At yours. And I can never give you what you want: odds are that one day, as you said, I'll be too seriously wounded and die somewhere, far from you, and you won't know before days. Or weeks; or... ever. Or I'll die here in the pueblo, for all to see and before your eyes. Or else I'll finally be arrested and hung. Or the fight will go on forever. But in any case, I'll never be able to fulfil the promise I foolishly made to you years ago. We'll never settle down together and raise a houseful of children. I'm sorry."

Victoria looked at him with horror, mouth agape.

"B– but... Zorro..." she stuttered.

"So what I mean is... is... I'm releasing you from your word. You're not bound to me anymore. You're free to live the life you deserve, the one you've always yearned for. But with someone else than me."

"But Zorro, I'm not asking to be relea–"

"But _I_ want to. I mean... Then _I_ am freeing myself from my promise. I can never give you what you're waiting for. And this thought is killing me. I can't go on like this, so at least I would like to see you happy. Your happiness will make mine. And knowing how I am holding you back from it is a weight with which I can't go on anymore."

"But I can't be happy if not with you!" she objected.

"You will have to, because I don't want to be engaged to you anymore. I'm sorry to hurt you feelings, Victoria. But it is over. You will always have a special place in my heart and in my fights, but... I have to make this decision for my own sanity. To keep a clear head. I am sure you will find someone else to fulfil your dreams, you are a wonderful woman and men should be blind not to see the many good qualities and beautiful human side in you."

Victoria swallowed hard and fought back tears. And then another thought occurred to her:

"You saw us, didn't you...?"

Zorro seemed to be taken aback.

"You saw us," she repeated, "that's why you are breaking up with me... You saw us or you heard about us from Blue-Eagle or any other Indian today... That's why..."

She paused, and Zorro kept silent.

"He said... he said he suspected someone else than the Indians saw him get out at dawn... And who else but you would be up and outside before dawn?"

She hung her head and went on in a very low voice, almost a whisper.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as cheating on you, but... I swear it was not what you think... I know appearances say otherwise, but we are just good friends... I should have told you before of course, but... oh, dear, I know I have made a mess of everything, but please... It was just for a child, and–"

But Zorro shut her up with a sign of his hand.

"Please Victoria, I really don't want to hear about that now. And no, it's not the reason I... the reason I took this decision. I mean, I understand... I understand your wish. And your needs. And in fact that's exactly why I am setting you free."

"But we're engaged!" she tried to argue. "You even gave me a ring! We're engaged to be married–"

"We're not anymore. Keep the ring, I have no one else to whom I could give it anyway; and even if I had, for the reasons I have told you earlier and for others I'd rather keep to myself, I would have no right to. So I find it to be only fitting that it goes to you eventually."

Victoria swallowed the lump in her throat. Then silently, slowly, she walked to a drawer of her dressing table and pulled it open. Inside it were two different wooden boxes: a rather simple one on the front, and a lovelier one at the back. She pulled out the one at the back of the drawer, put it on the table, blew on the thin layer of dust covering it – apparently it hadn't been touched in months – and she opened the lid. She reached inside and took something out of it, then she went back to Zorro and put this something into his gloved hand.

His mother's emerald ring, the one he had given to Victoria as an engagement ring.

"I can't keep it," she told him, shaking her head. "If I am not to marry you, if we are really breaking up, then it won't do me any good to keep it, quite the contrary: I don't need the constant reminder of a future we can't have in a drawer of my bedroom, a reminder that we failed. I prefer sticking to the keepsakes of what we've actually had. Take it back."

He looked at the ring as if it was personally offending him, but then he probably remembered his mother because he slowly closed his fingers around it and slowly nodded before pocketing it with a sigh.

"My apologies, Victoria," he said contritely. "For the offense, for the hurt... and above of all for the wasted years. I sincerely wish you happiness, Señorita, and you will always be in my prayers."

And with these words, he gently took her right hand, bowed over it and kissed it reverently before once more disappearing through the window into the dark of the night. Once more and for the last time, it seemed...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

After Zorro left, Victoria had collapsed on her bed and immediately plunged her hand under her pillow to take the silky dark piece of cloth out of it. She entwined it again with her fingers, and again she buried her nose in it. After half an hour spent curling on her mattress over her bedcover and smelling the calming and soothing scent of the black fabric, she felt the cold of the night and got up to close the window left open by Zorro. Before she also pulled the curtains closed, she looked at the dark piece of material still in her hand and sighed heavily.

Perhaps Zorro had been right: perhaps their situation hadn't been good for their sanity. And perhaps wanting to separate her body from her heart wasn't good for her sanity either. She couldn't believe she had tried to get to bed with two different men in the space of less than two hours! What had gotten into her? She was a bit ashamed of it. And she could hardly believe that not only she tried, but she failed both times!

That was quite a blow to her female ego.

But even that wasn't the worst of it all, on a purely egotic point of view. If she hadn't been so sad, if she hadn't felt so angry, Victoria Escalante would have probably laughed at herself: she would have never thought it before, but in fact she had just been dumped twice in the same night! And by two very different men at that! Almost _opposite_ men... That was quite telling. Contrary to what Zorro told her, it was the best demonstration that probably no man would ever seriously want to bind his life to hers!

She chuckled at herself. A chuckle without any joy. A self-derisive one.

Then she let out another resigned sigh and slowly walked to her dressing table; she closed the lid of the lovely wooden box which now only contained a few dried roses, some folded sheets of very hastily scribbled paper, and, somewhere under this all, a satin black kerchief-like piece of silk with two slits for the eyes. Victoria put the box back in its previous place at the back of the drawer.

But before she closed this drawer she opened the lid of the other box. The plainer one. It was containing a dried head of sunflower, a few refined white visiting cards, a flattering but rather risqué and undressed sketch of herself, and a dried small bouquet of forget-me-not. She finally untangled the piece of black satin cloth from her fingers and carefully put it in the box with a regretful sigh.

Once again, Diego had forgotten his neck bow on her floor in his hasty departure, but this time she would not give it back to him.


	103. Ch 103 - Freudian before its time

In the dark of the night, Victoria was cosily straddling a lying Diego, running her hands up and down his chest, facing the headboard of her bed and in the middle of working on making them... _pleased_ with each other, when she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder.

The first time she thought she only imagined it and chose to ignore it – after all, what she was doing was so much more interesting and important! – but the second time it became a bit more insistent so she condescended to pause a bit in her actions, rather annoyed at being interrupted in such a pleasant activity, and turned her head to the right in order to look back over her own shoulder and see what dared require her attention in such an intimate moment.

And here in her bedroom, right beside her mattress and looking down on both her and Diego, stood Zorro.

"Sorry to interrupt, querida," his cold voice told her as he folded his arms over his chest.

Victoria remained dumbfounded for a split second as her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and then all she managed to come up with was:

"Zorro!"

He didn't move one bit.

"Yes, Zorro," he confirmed in a stony voice, his arms still folded.

But Victoria still didn't move either, like this apparition had frozen her. She noted that the window behind him was open on the moonlit night. Then she suddenly had the presence of mind to unstraddle Diego and she sat beside him on her side of the bed, turning toward Zorro.

"I know what it looks like," she finally managed to hurriedly tell the outlaw, "but... but... but it's not... huh... not..."

Her voice died in an embarrassed mumble.

"I'm glad to know it's not what it looks like," Zorro said in the same cool voice as earlier, "because it really looks like you and Don Diego are being very... _intimate_ with each other. If you didn't just assure me of the contrary, I would have sworn you were currently having a physical relationship in your bed with him when I interrupted you..."

Victoria looked at him with horror in her eyes at the realisation of what he had just witnessed, and this horror grew wider in these when she finally became aware of the fact that she was bare-chested in front of Zorro's eyes. She hastily grabbed the hem of the bedsheet and lifted it almost to her shoulders in order to cover her breasts from his gaze.

"I must admit that I'm a bit disappointed in you, mi querida," Zorro told her, "as well as in Don Diego."

At these words, Victoria suddenly remembered the man beside her in her bed, and Diego seemed to finally react too when he sat up from his previously lying position and cowered before Zorro, taking shelter behind Victoria, shielding himself from the outlaw by hiding behind her back.

Victoria extended a protective arm on his side of her bed and gently touched him with her hand, like she wanted to assure him that she would stand up for him, that he had nothing to fear. It seemed to work because she felt him relax slightly.

"Well," Victoria finally said when she found her voice again, as well as her whole presence of mind, "it's not like I haven't asked _you_ before, is it?"

"Hmph," Zorro grumbled.

"What!?" Diego exclaimed.

Then Victoria's eyes idly settled on her open window, and suddenly something tickled her at the back of her mind: hadn't she cautiously closed it previously, as well as the wooden shutters like each time Diego came 'visiting' her for the night?

Yes, she was sure she had.

And hadn't Zorro broken up with her sometime earlier? It seemed rather vague to her, so she wasn't sure, but this notion remotely reminded her of a rather unpleasant moment...

She wasn't totally sure. Perhaps she had simply dreamt this scene?

Well, if he hadn't broken up his engagement to her earlier, now that he had just caught her with Don Diego he certainly would!

But... but why was this idea making her more displeased and vexed than downright desperate and heartbroken...? Weird.

_Bah_ , she thought inwardly, _he'll probably come round once he realises that_... that what, exactly? That she and Don Diego were just very good friends and associates in some business matter, that's all.

But for now, Zorro turned to the wide open window and without any other word he simply disappeared into the night. Victoria found his attitude a bit cavalier, to say the least, but for now she and Diego were here on a mission and had better – and more pleasant – things to do than dwell on Zorro's anguish and hero's ego.

She turned to her partner-in-bed and simply told him rather firmly but gently:

"Lie back."

He complied and she was about to straddle him again when... Wait a minute: didn't Don Diego too call an end to their relationship a bit earlier? Or not...? But if so... what was he doing in her bed? She looked down at his chest, but curiously when her gaze crept a little bit higher she couldn't make out the features of his face beside the square jaw, the discreet dimples and the black moustache... The rest was like engulfed in a pitch dark shadow.

_Bah_ , she thought as she resumed straddling him, _if he is here, then it means that he hasn't really ditched me_. Or he simply changed his mind and came back. But just _when_ exactly did he come back? She didn't remember. Everything was hazy, except the very real and acute tingling between her legs. She was about to resume her pleasant earlier activity when a bird chirped and tweeted stridulantly. And insistently.

_Arrrgh, damn..._

She opened her eyes, annoyed at the sound, and found herself lying on her back, staring at her ceiling through the dimness in her bedroom.

_Huh?_

She extended her arm to Diego's side on the bed and her hand found only coldness under the sheet. As well as emptiness.

_Huh?_

_Oh..._

Alone. She was alone in her bed. And in her bedroom. Realisation dawned on her: what a very disturbing nightmare it had been!

And a rather sick one, too: Zorro catching her and Diego... Not that she had promised faithfulness to her secret betrothed, after all: she promised to wait for him to be free, implying that she promised not to _marry_ anyone else, but all in all she didn't promise _anything else_ in the meantime than her continued support and commitment...

Yet if the scene had been real, it would have been a very weird and embarrassing situation. And she could only imagine how mortified poor Don Diego would have felt! But as and when realisation slowly dawned on her at the same time as daylight on the still quiet pueblo, reality and recollections hit her hard: Diego _had_ ended their relationship, and Zorro _had_ broken up their engagement and taken back his promise to her.

She suddenly felt almost sick as, despite her reclined position, she felt her heart fall to the pit of her stomach and her throat constricted painfully, blocking tears that wanted to spill out of her. _Oh dear, no! Please Lord, tell me it's not real!_

Yet she knew it was: she now was awake enough to have recovered all her lucidity, and she knew very well what was part of the weird nightmare and what had actually happened the night before...

She turned on her side, curled up in a ball and bit the pillow to muffle a sob. She was feeling almost queasy with the hurt, the pain of the heartbreak and the hint of humiliation.

But the worst of it all was that, despite the despair and the sorrow, and even through it all, the tingling in her most intimate parts was still there, and she felt both humbled and mortified by the bodily needs of her own flesh.

_Damn you, Diego de la Vega!_ How could she be feeling arousal and physical frustration in such heartbreaking circumstances? Was her whole being really so little beside a mass of nerves and muscles and blood and flesh?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Shortly before lunchtime, Don Alejandro, Doña Araceli and Don Diego along with Felipe made their way to the pueblo. They had barely crossed the town's gate when they noticed a small gathering of people in front of the alcalde's office.

"...and may the wine you drink taste sour, may the food you eat turn into sand in your mouth, may anything you eat or drink taste bland and dull until you lift the ban on my people patronising the tavern. I said."

From their mounts and the carriage, they recognised the man who spoke, as well as the one accompanying him. Singing-Wind and Strong-Alder were both in full regalia but had been wise enough not to sport war paint: they were here on business, but were not at war.

Yet.

After Singing-Wind's tirade they simply turned their backs to de Soto and quietly walked through the crowd and to their horses tied to the hitching post. Then on their way they passed the de la Vegas and acknowledged them with a polite nod, as well as they greeted Araceli with a discreet though slightly sardonic "buenos días, Frilly-Hedgehog," before they left for good.

_Oh, this nickname, really!_ Araceli thought with an inward annoyed sigh.

The gathering of people then disbanded and everyone went back to their own business.

Diego, his father, Felipe and Araceli all walked to de Soto, seemingly to inquire about the scene they just witnessed, but the alcalde clearly wasn't in a bright mood.

"Not now, de la Vega," he said even before any of them said anything, "I am busy."

And he turned his back on them to face the door of his office. Then on an impulse he turned again and went to Araceli:

"On second thought, Señora," he told her, "by any chance, you wouldn't happen to know where your new friend Señor Guzmán has found shelter, would you?"

Araceli's eyebrows went up to the middle of her forehead and she looked at him with wide eyes.

Then the alcade's eyes narrowed on Alejandro and he turned to the older man:

"And you, Don Alejandro, wouldn't happen to harbour an escapee...?"

"What in the name of the Lord are you talking about, alcalde?" Alejandro asked him.

By way of answer, de Soto simply pointed to the prison's cells.

"Seems like your new friend didn't appreciate our... _hospitality_ as he should have," he then added, "and found some dubious help in... scarpering."

Four pairs of eyes turned to the direction indicated by de Soto's finger, where they discovered a cell which lock had obviously been completely ruined as well as two bars of the open door; on the back wall of this cell, right opposite the entrance, was carved a gigantic Z.

Enhanced with charcoal, probably, Felipe noted as he did his best to avoid looking at Diego with a grin. Instead, the young man concentrated on looking innocently at the alcade's face, but then only his long habit and training at schooling his features and remaining impassive allowed him to keep from choking out of shock, or laughter, or both, when he heard Doña Araceli's voice state rather loudly about the size of the mark left by Diego on the wall:

"Well Alejandro, either I don't know the first thing about men, or your local outlaw apparently feels he has something to compensate for..."


	104. Ch 104 - Today's special

"I assure you, Señor Alcalde," Alejandro told de Soto, "we didn't even know than Señor Guzmán was at large until you show us his cell! In fact, Araceli was rather worried for him and insisted that we came a bit earlier so that she could go visit him in your jail before we had lunch at the tavern."

"Indeed," she said. "You won't be too harsh on him, alcalde, right?" she asked him almost seductively. "I mean, he was probably afraid of the possible retribution after yesterday's incident in your office, that's certainly why he followed this outlaw. Of course he shouldn't have, but well... an honest man is always afraid of prison: only criminals are used to it, you know this as well as I do..."

Alejandro rolled his eyes at Felipe and Diego when he saw Araceli slip an arm under de Soto's and hook it with hers. Really!

Unaware of the older man's reaction to her efforts at mellowing the alcade, Araceli went on:

"Of course you know, silly me, you're an alcalde! But you know what? I'm sure he already regrets his reaction of yesterday, and as for me, I have already forgotten the hurtful words pronounced in this office: after all, we all let our tongue run ahead of our true thoughts from time to time, don't we...? For my part, everything if forgiven, and I am sure Señor Guzmán is now ready to make amends and pay the fine, but the only thing keeping him is the fear of further retribution about this jailbreak he's been forced to by this scoundrel of a masked outlaw, don't you think, alcalde?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at him and Alejandro was almost sick at her obvious display of charm offensive, but on the other hand, he remembered how dangerous those big deep dark eyes of hers could be for a man's resistance. At least for his own resistance, but he already knew Diego wasn't even remotely moved by her – thank God! – and there was little chance de Soto would let himself be easily charmed out of amercing an escapee.

He saw Diego turn to Felipe and raise his eyes to Heaven at Araceli's antics, but against all odds it seemed to have a very slight effect on de Soto. Unless it was the prospect of Guzmán finally paying his fine, a fact that Araceli astutely let slip in her tirade. Yes, decidedly, she was incredibly skilled and formidable at anything business-related. And more subtle at that than at charming a man she didn't even remotely like!

"Well, perhaps..." de Soto started, "perhaps I can consider a lighter sentence for Señor Guzmán if he turns himself in and comes back here... After all and as you said, this jailbreak is mainly Zorro's doing and responsibility!"

"I see that we share a same common ground, Señor Alcalde," Araceli replied, "so we can only find an agreement in the matter at hand. I did not doubt it one bit. Now, and to celebrate this truce between us, please allow me to invite you to share our lunch at Señorita Escalante's tavern..."

And with a spring in her step she headed to the tavern in question, leading de Soto by their still hooked arms.

Alejandro caught Felipe's admiring look of awe at Araceli. Oh yes, she was really, really formidably skilled as far as conducting business was concerned. He turned to the young man and following in his former lover's footsteps, he mouthed at him as well as at Diego: _told you so_. And with that he simply shrugged and entered the tavern.

After less than five minutes inside, Alejandro and probably everyone else around could tell that Victoria Escalante was in a foul mood. Or rather a despondent one. What was wrong with everyone, today? Araceli had spent the whole morning worrying for her dear Señor Guzmán, Diego had a long face since he set foot out of bed, de Soto was grumpy – well, at least Alejandro knew why, and with Araceli's little plan it wasn't about to get brighter – and now Victoria too was apparently in a bad hair day. Yet she had sounded rather enthusiastic at their plan the night before! Really, what had gotten into them to have them all look like a wet weekend?

"So, here's your stew, Señora," Victoria told Araceli, putting a plate in front of her. "And yours, Don Alejandro. I'm back in a minute with the three others."

And indeed she soon came back.

"Felipe..." she politely but uselessly said as she put a plate in front of the young man.

Then without a word she also put one down before Diego and one before the alcalde.

"Enjoy..." she gloomily murmured as she walked away without another look at any of them. She hadn't addressed Diego. Not even _looked_ at him, if Alejandro wasn't mistaken. Was she resenting his son for not escorting her back home the night before?

Come to think of that, Diego too had been starring at the wood of the table the whole time. He, who usually could barely tear his gaze away from their lovely taverness! Really, there was something strange about all this, he thought inwardly as he took his first bite of the stew she had just served them.

 _Ow!_ She had indeed surpassed herself – well, in a manner of speaking: it tasted... nothing. Yes, almost nothing. Water was barely more bland, he thought. He resisted the urge to look at de Soto's face as he too was eating his first bite since Singing-Wind's fake Indian malediction.

"Congratulations," Alejandro heard Araceli tell Victoria, "your stew is really delicious, Señorita."

"Yes," Alejandro added once he overcame his earlier surprise, "absolutely succulent, my dear."

Felipe enthusiastically thumbed up at Victoria to show her his appreciation, but Alejandro had to discreetly elbow his son to elicit some praise from him.

"A real treat, Señorita," he told her, his eyes settled somewhere beside her. "Delectable," he added looking at his plate again as he stuck his fork in another piece of stew with fake enthusiasm.

Alejandro had a hard time keeping from giggling like a six-years-old when he ventured a look at de Soto's face. The alcalde was looking absolutely bewildered, staring from Araceli to Diego, from Felipe to Alejandro and then throwing a disbelieving look at Victoria, before taking one more tentative bite at the dish.

"Hmm, I absolutely love this sauce," Araceli added to lay it on thick about what in Alejandro's opinion was probably nothing more than flour highly diluted in plain water, without anything else in it. "You certainly have a secret ingredient, like any good cook worthy of the name..."

Victoria smiled and playfully answered:

"Hmm... yes. But I can already tell you that it is a savant mix of white wine, salt and pepper, an infusion of various herbs and onions, cream, garlic, a hint of honey and... my mystery ingredient."

"Well, it's a real success, I must say..." Alejandro said.

"Gracias Don Alejandro."

And while she discreetly smiled at the double entendre of this last praise, he had to elbow Diego again.

"Indeed," the latter echoed. "It really brings out the aroma of the meat..."

The meatballs.... Alejandro wondered whether it was chicken, pork or veal. Or even fish, why not? How could anything taste so much of... nothing? How did she manage to have whatever meat she used lose all its distinctive flavour?

Felipe, for his part, silently displayed his enthusiasm by eagerly shoving another spoonful of whatever she had served them in his mouth.

When she had gone back to her kitchen, de Soto stuck his fork in one of the meatballs in the young man's plate and ate it. His frown indicated that he didn't find it any better than what he had previously tasted from his own plate. Felipe, Alejandro and the others pretended not to notice this blatant violation of table manners; then de Soto turned to Diego and with a quick "con su permiso..." he dug his fork into the man's accompanying vegetables and shoved them in his own mouth too. These were obviously as bland as his own serving.

"Is something wrong, Señor alcalde?" Araceli inquired, looking at him with her head tilted to the side in a display of kind solicitude.

"I... er... Nothing, Señora, please forgive me..."

"Are you sure, alcalde?" Alejandro asked, mimicking Araceli's former benevolent concern.

"Si, si... thank you, Don Alejandro."

And with these words, he grabbed the pitcher and poured wine in everyone's glass around the table to make up for his earlier lack of manners.

 _Wine_ , really? Alejandro almost did a double take with the first sip of it that he tasted. What was _that_...? It had the pale gold-yellowish colour of white wine, but it certainly didn't have the taste of any of the various wines he had ever drank!

Alejandro hid his reaction to this beverage but the alcalde clearly frowned and looked at it curiously.

"Mmm," Araceli said with apparent delight when Victoria passed by their table, "this wine is excellent, Señorita."

Alejandro ostensibly agreed with a silent but visible nod.

"It is one of those that you purchase from my company, isn't it?"

"It is, Señora," Victoria confirmed, "what a refined and sensitive palate you have!"

"Gracias."

"You certainly have a knack for enjoying all the pleasures of life..." Victoria strangely replied, looking at Araceli with an odd look in her eyes. Was there some double meaning behind her words? Had there really been a hint of... of _spite_ in her tone? No, certainly not, Alejandro told himself, he was just seeing too much in Victoria's dejected attitude, nothing more.

He glanced at his son, who was pensively taking a sip of the insipid beverage without so much as blinking an eye. Alejandro didn't know that Diego was so good at pretending...

"Señorita," the alcalde told Victoria, "could you please bring us a jug of red wine? I feel that this dish would be even better accompanied by a more full-bodied wine."

Victoria raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Si, Señor alcalde, I'm bringing it immediately. A Rioja...?"

"Rioja will be perfect, Señorita."

"Si, I'm sure it will match wonderfully with your stew, Victoria," Diego made the effort to tell her and join the conversation.

She nodded again and turned to go back to her kitchen.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Araceli took a sip of the dark reddish liquid in her glass. _Ow_ , it was even worse than the accidentally spiked Madeira she drank six month ago: on second thought, she preferred the fake white wine they had been initially served. Except for an immediate sourness on the first sip, she couldn't identify any real taste, other than a vague one of red wine diluted in much water. And yet the beverage looked as red as if it was pure wine! Weird, how did Señorita Escalante manage that?

"Hmm, this one is even better than the white one, Señorita!" she told the taverness. "Señor alcalde, you were right to ask for Rioja: you're a true gourmet. And a connoisseur. But of course I should have expected this of a true Madrileño."

De Soto choked a bit on his first gulp of wine and took sometime coughing discreetly before politely replying:

"Gacias, Señora."

"Yes, this Rioja is truly exquisite, Victoria," Alejandro said, before turning to Araceli and adding: "I suppose this one too comes from one of your shipments, dear?"

"Nothing gets past you, Alejandro..." Araceli replied with a grin.

"Indeed, nothing gets past you, Father," Diego echoed a bit glumly. Then he raised his glass at them and knocked it back in one go without even breaking a sweat, despite the obviously acidic taste of it. Wow, this man had quite some self-control and composure, and Araceli marvelled at it as she thought that Don Diego had more physical resistance than his father had been giving him credit for.

When Victoria brought them an apple cake – or whatever she announced as an apple cake – Araceli sank her teeth in it a bit apprehensive of its taste, but in fact she inwardly relaxed when she tasted nothing acidic or sour or even remotely salty in it. In fact, it didn't taste much of anything, a bit like the earlier main course. Where did she find such insipid apples? And the cake itself... it barely tasted much more than mere bread. Yet it still had the appearance and consistency of a cake! Then Araceli ate a piece of fruit alone, and she suddenly had an inkling of what exactly Señorita Escalante used in lieu of real apples in her recipe. She smiled. Clever, indeed!

" _Yum_ , as my daughter would say..." she told the taverness. "Your cake is absolutely luscious, and the hint of cinnamon is a really good idea," Araceli suddenly made up on an impulse.

Felipe playfully acquiesced with a twinkle in his eyes. Alejandro pretended to feast on it while he ate his portion, and even Diego deigned to join in the concert of praises. At first, de Soto looked at them like they had all gone insane, but now he was staring at his piece of cake with a pensive frown and examining it curiously.

"We haven't heard the sound of your voice for some time, Señor alcalde," Araceli suddenly told him. "Is something wrong?"

"Don't you enjoy the meal, Ignacio?" Diego asked innocently.

"Huh...?" de Soto said, torn away from his thoughts. "Oh, huh... yes, excellent, Señorita Escalante..."

"Gracias, Alcalde," she replied before retreating to her kitchen.

"So, tell me Señor Alcalde," Araceli said, "do we have an agreement about Señor Guzmán, then?"

"Hold your horses, Señora," de Soto replied. "For now he is still on the run, and he has first to turn himself in and come back to the jail for me to consider mercy. But perhaps you won't have too far to go to make sure that the message is conveyed to him..." he insinuated.

Araceli got perfectly what he was hinting at:

"Contrary to what you seem to think, I didn't ask Don Alejandro to harbour a fugitive. I certainly wouldn't involve him in such a thing and I assure you that we didn't even know that Don Rodrigo had escaped before we arrived in the pueblo shortly before lunch, and you are the one who informed us of that fact."

"But why don't you simply send your men to search my hacienda?" Alejandro told de Soto, a bit annoyed at the suspicion. " _Once again_ , I mean. After all, they already know the place, don't they? I just ask you to make sure that this time they break fewer things than the last time they searched it six months ago..."

Neither Araceli nor Alejandro saw Diego and Felipe pull a face at the older caballero's suggestion to the alcalde: they didn't like much the idea of soldiers being too nosy in the hacienda, especially anywhere near the library's fireplace. It was always making them a bit nervous.

"Excellent idea, Alejandro: we could keep the alcalde for dinner tonight at the hacienda," Araceli suggested. "What would you say of this, Señor alcalde? And that way you will see that Don Alejandro has nothing to hide. Nor does anyone else under his roof. With your permission of course, Alejandro..."

"Yes," Alejandro replied, "that's a good idea, my dear. Señor Alcalde, despite the difference of opinion between us, you are welcome to share our dinner tonight, since the lady issued the invitation. And after all she is right: this way you will see that I am not hiding anything. Or anyone, for that matter."

De Soto frowned again: on the one hand, there was no love lost between him and Alejandro de la Vega, but on the other hand Señorita Escalante's suddenly dejected mood seemed to be reflected in her cooking, and the de la Vegas were probably just being kind in not pointing that out to her. Ignacio briefly glanced around the room, but none of the other customers seemed to particularly frown or pull a face at the terrible lack of flavour of the Señorita's cooking today. Strange... Well, whatever. He wasn't terribly eager to endure another bland meal for dinner, and the garrison's canteen was particularly dull too. Not to mention that it would be a bit rude to decline a lady's invitation. Not that he hadn't already been rude with her the day before, but well... she seemed disposed to forget this and called a truce, after all.

"All right, I accept. Gracias for the invitation, Señora, Don Alejandro..."

De Soto noted that this woman was now issuing invitations on Don Alejandro's behalf: was she slowly behaving like the new 'lady of the house' of the de la Vega hacienda? If so, it meant that something more was certainly going on between her and Don Alejandro... Did the old man finally decide to put things right? Or was she simply imposing herself as the hacienda's new lady? After all, Ignacio reflected with an inward chuckle, there was only one letter from a _lay_ to a _lady_...

"Good," Araceli said, "I'm glad we get a chance to get better acquainted and to get on well, Señor Alcalde. Now if you will excuse me for a minute, gentlemen, I'm going to thank and congratulate the cook for this excellent meal..."

She stood and walked to the curtain separating the main room from the tavern's kitchen, but as soon as she pulled it aside she spotted Señorita Escalante slumped on a stool with her elbows on a wooden table, her back to her, her shoulders quivering a bit from time to time with slight tremors. At the same time, Araceli thought she heard faint sounds very much akin to muffled sobs and sniffing, and they seemed to come from the young innkeeper. She felt as ill-at-ease as any intruder would in such circumstances and discreetly retreated, hoping that Señorita Escalante didn't notice her brief presence there: she really wouldn't know what to tell her! She wasn't good with crying people, except Leonor of course. Comforting her daughter was one thing, but crying adults... definitely not her thing. She'd simply be too awkward and wouldn't comfort anyone.

Instead she returned to their table and discreetly took Alejandro aside while Don Diego was talking with the alcalde.

"Alejandro..." she murmured, "I think... I think that perhaps you should go see your... your _friend_ Señorita Escalante."

He glanced at her curiously.

"She is..." Araceli went on, "I am under the impression that she is currently crying in her kitchen. I thought that you... that you of all people would be able to comfort her..."

He looked at her seriously.

"She's crying?" he asked in a whisper. "You're sure?"

Araceli nodded.

"I didn't stay, I hardly looked in fact," she answered, "but it looked like that."

Alejandro looked both puzzled and alarmed, and went to the kitchen. He delicately pulled the curtain aside and slowly crossed the threshold. That's the last thing Araceli saw before this same curtain fell back in place and he disappeared behind it.

One the one hand she was relieved not to be the one who'd have to comfort the young woman, and also relieved that someone went to her and didn't leave her alone with whatever grief was overwhelming her.

But on the other hand, part of Araceli paradoxically wished she were a tiny mouse able to slip unnoticed in the kitchen and witness what Alejandro was telling Señorita Escalante, and was she was telling him. What could be the subject of her sudden distress?

And yet deep down, Araceli was feeling something rather uncomfortable somewhere in her chest, or perhaps in the pitch of her stomach. Like some unknown thing was faintly churning inside it or oppressing her lungs, she couldn't tell. But what she could tell, though, was that it was an unpleasant feeling; that despite the funny trick she had just played on the alcalde, some part of her, deep down, was feeling almost unhappy.

But she knew that she had just done the right thing: she _had_ to send Alejandro comfort his new ladylove, and she also knew that she didn't have any right on him, after all: they had been over for years and years, she didn't have the right to feel possessive of him anymore. She shouldn't even feel sad that he now had a fine lady in his life: in fact she should even rejoice for it! And in all truth, she _did_ rejoice: she was happy for him that he had someone who truly cared for him, and whom her cared for... So why this slight pang, this twinge to her heart?

Really, this was illogical and unreasonable. She had to let go of Alejandro for good and she knew it. And despite how it was making her feel, she knew that she did the right thing in having him go comfort Señorita Escalante. She sighed to shoo away her uneasy and unpleasant emotions and exited the tavern with Felipe and Don Diego, who in his own morose mood noticed neither her earlier brief exchange of words with his father nor the fact that he had stayed behind and gone to the kitchen.


	105. Ch 105 - Hide-and-seek

"What are the soldiers doing in Papá's house, Señor?"

Ignacio de Soto looked down at the ankle-biter standing in front of him and frowned. Couldn't the brat mind her own business? And in fact, what was she doing alone in the middle of the sala: didn't she have a nanny of some sort somewhere?

But then Ignacio had a sudden idea: out of the mouth of babes and sucklings comes the truth, after all...

"They are playing a game of hide-and-seek," he answered as kindly as he could. "Do you want to join in, Señorita? You and I could team up..."

Leonor seemed to consider this strange idea: never before had she heard of grown-ups playing hide-and-seek between themselves...

"Here is the rule," the alcalde went on. "The first player or team of players who finds the señor whom your father has helped hide here in his hacienda wins. Simply that. And then the winner will hide from the others and try not to be found. You'd like that, wouldn't you? So, did you see where your papá has hidden him?"

"Hidden whom?" Leonor asked ingenuously.

"The man whom Zorro brought here... Didn't you really see him, Señorita?"

Leonor looked at him, at a loss. And then a bit afraid.

"Zorro... he's the tall man with a mask, dressed all in black, right?"

De Soto nodded, and Leonor suddenly looked frightened.

"He's here...?" she asked, looking fearfully around herself. "Inside Papá's house?"

"No," de Soto gently answered, doing his best not to lose patience, "no he is not here, don't worry."

"But who, then?" the child asked.

Ignacio took a deep breath in, then out, in order to calm down.

"The señor from Ensenada who travelled by the stagecoach with you and your mamá, remember?"

"Oooh, yes," Leonor exclaimed, "Don Rodrigo!"

"Yes, exactly!" the alcalde confirmed with a smile, relieved. "He is here, isn't he?"

"I don't know, Señor."

"Are you sure? You didn't see him here at all?"

"Oh si!" she answered enthusiastically. "He came yesterday before lunch, and he gave us lovely flowers, just like Papá!"

De soto bit his lips. _Patience_ , he repeated inwardly, _don't lose patience Ignacio, she's just a child, don't scare her or you won't get anything out of her..._

"Yes, but didn't you see him today? Or in the middle of the night?"

"I'm not allowed to get up in the middle of the night, Señor, and I didn't see him today."

"Are you sure?" de Soto insisted. "Perhaps he was here in disguise: he doesn't want to lose the game and be found. Did any man other than those who usually live here come to the hacienda today?"

"Yes!" Leonor exclaimed victoriously, setting de Soto's hopes high again, "the soldiers!"

Ignacio's hopes deflated.

"And you, also, Señor," the child added just as naively and with disarming honesty.

De Soto couldn't help a sigh.

"No one else?"

Leonor shook her head, and the alcalde sighed again.

"All right," he said. "But I am sure that such a bright young señorita as yourself now knows every nook and hiding places in this hacienda, and even around, right? So if you where to hide out for several hours, where would you go?"

Leonor frowned, deep in thought.

"Huh... huh... huh..."

She thought hard, and then even harder, frowned deeper and finally answered:

"Hmmm... under a bed...?"

"For hours?" de Soto pointed out, disappointed at the child's basic idea and clearly not convinced by it.

"Perhaps he has fallen asleep there...?" Leonor suggested, not fully convinced herself. "Or... oh, I know! The stable!"

"The soldiers already searched the stable, Señorita."

"Oh..." she let out, disappointed too. But then her face lit up: "Precisely! If I had to hide right now, I would go to a place that people have already searched, because they wouldn't think about searching it again!"

De Soto raised an appreciative eyebrow: _cunning_ , this little one was a smart one...

Though he didn't think Guzmán was hiding in the stable: too many people coming in and out of there at any time of the day.

"Or...," Leonor went on, "if I were to hide somewhere for many hours, the best hiding place would be one large enough for me to be able to move, to get up from time to time, even to walk a bit, and above all, a place with many books to fill time!"

"Good thinking Señorita," Ignacio complimented her to get in her good books, "and is there such a place here?"

"No," she answered. "Not that I know. But do you know what would be great? The best hiding place would be a whole room, a secret one, somewhere underground: no window to be seen from outside, a large place with everything needed, oil lamps to be able to see, lots of books, a table and a chair, and perhaps a bed or at least some hay to have a nap. Oh, and also a secret passage to get there from the hacienda! This would be really really great, I'd love that!" she added enthusiastically, bouncing and clapping her hands.

De Soto looked at her with a raised eyebrow: _children, really!_ Their imagination knew no limit. But then he narrowed his eyes: after all, these big haciendas sometimes had hidden built-in secrets...

"And does you papá's house have such secret passages, by any chance?" he asked, just in case.

"No," Leonor replied regretfully with a sigh, "unfortunately. It would be so great if there was one! But Papá would have shown me, if so. Or Felipe. Or Diego."

 _Oh, yes, of course_. Well it had only been a highly hypothetical possibility, after all. Ignacio frowned a bit, thinking hard.

"But this hacienda has a basement, right?" he told the girl.

"Yes, with a wine cellar, but I am not allowed in there. Except with Papá or Mamá. Or Diego, but he never goes there."

"And... are you sure there is nothing else than the cellar down there? Isn't there another room?"

Leonor's frown showed that she was thinking hard about the alcalde's question.

"No, I don't remember seeing any door there," she finally answered. "And anyway there are shelves and crates and barrels absolutely everywhere along the walls... I don't think that there is room for a door."

De Soto considered her answer, and remained silently pensive for some time. He'd have to have his men measure up this basement precisely and draw a plan of it, and one day he'll compare this with a detailed plan of the hacienda on the surface, when he has time.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Well, he was not under any bed either..." Leonor said exhaustedly as she plumped down on the library's sofa with a disappointed sigh.

"Not even your mother's..." de Soto said.

"Why especially Mamá's, Señor?" she asked him ingenuously.

Ignacio bit his tongue and inwardly chastised himself for talking too much without thinking: these were grown-ups' matters, not children's.

"No particular reason," he simply answered. "Any other idea, Señorita?" he added, staring into space, his eyes idly settled on the fireplace in front of him.

Leonor let out a deep sigh and shook her head, following the alcalde's gaze to the mantelpiece. Then she suddenly leaped to her feet and cried out:

"I know!"

Again, Ignacio raised an eyebrow at her.

"The fireplace!" she added running to the hearth and looking up.

The alcalde rolled his eyes at her idea.

"He's a ranch owner, young Señorita, not a chimney sweep!"

Children, really! Who else would have the ludicrous idea to use a fireplace as a secret hideout!

"Pfff, I think that he is hiding elsewhere than in Papá's house, then," Leonor let out disappointedly when she came back to the sofa and slumped onto it beside the alcalde. "Too bad, Don Rodrigo has won, then. Anyway, I don't want to play anymore: it was funny at the beginning, but now it's boring..."

She walked to a table and took a chessboard on it.

"Do you want to play a game of chess, Señor?"

"I've no time for that, Señorita," he replied, standing to leave the room.

"But Felipe told me that my parents invited you for dinner! That's the reason why I will have dinner in the kitchen with him. And with the other servants: I'm not allowed at the adult's table when there are guests," she said matter-of-factly, not bothered one bit. "I like having lunch or dinner with him."

Ignacio shrugged: he didn't care at all about the child's personal details.

"But why isn't your wife already here, Señor? Didn't Mamá and Papá invite her too?"

 _Mind your own business, you rugrat!_ De Soto thought.

"I'm not married," he simply and politely replied.

"Oh, just like Papá then. And Diego, too."

"Yes. And also like your mother, incidentally."

"Ah yes, that too," Leonor simply replied. "And also Señorita Victoria, and Sergeant Mendoza. But then, is that why Mamá told Papá yesterday that you really needed a woman? She said it would be good for the people of the pueblo."

Ignacio choked on his own saliva.

"She said WHAT?"

"You are the señor alcalde, right?" Leonor asked.

Ignacio nodded.

"Then I heard Mamá tell Papá that you were probably just huh... _pro–... pru–... fru–... prostrated_ , I think she said, and also _se–... secsarved... sestarved..._ something like that. And _depraved,_ or _deprived,_ I don't remember exactly. What does this all mean Señor? Is this an illness?" she asked, concern for him written all over her face. "When I asked them, they told me that they hadn't seen that I was there and that it was too complicated a thing for children to understand. I hope it is nothing too serious, Señor," Leonor added compassionately.

But Ignacio was too flabbergasted to be able to say one word, and he slowly sat back down on the sofa. _This woman dared..._ _oh!_

Well, on the other hand, he admitted that he had not been overly elegant toward her the day before to begin with, so it probably settled the score. But still! The only frustration he was feeling was only caused by Zorro's continuous antics and escaping. And by the fact that he was missing Madrid, too. But women really were the least of his concerns, he thought. And this woman's snide allusions were simply wide off the mark and missed the point completely. Period.

"Ah, here you are, Señorita," Concepcion said as she entered the library. "I've been looking for you for some time, you know!"

 _Finally!_ Ignacio thought, relieved. The maid-made-nanny finally remembered she had a child to look after! Took her long enough!

"I was with the Señor alcalde. We've been playing hide-and-seek, but we lost."

"I'm sorry Señor alcalde," Concepcion told de Soto, "I hope Señorita Leonor didn't bother you."

"We... huh... had an interesting conversation," he replied, looking down intently as though his eyes could see through the floor and scan the cellar under it. "Very interesting," he repeated, raising his head again and looking at the woman. "And she is a bright young person... But now if you will excuse me, I have to give orders to my men..."

"Of course, Señor alcalde," Concepcion said, "we wouldn't want to delay you any further in such an important mission as searching Don Alejandro's hacienda..."

Ignacio's nostrils flared as he didn't miss the obvious disapproval in that woman's tone and words. Under this roof, even the servants were rebellious to the alcalde's authority, behind a polite surface! Like master like servants, it seemed.

Concepcion extended an arm toward the child in a clear invitation to take her hand before exiting the room, and Leonor made two steps to her before she stopped, turned around and quickly walked back to de Soto who was still sitting on the sofa; then she swiftly dropped a very light and hesitant kiss on his cheek, murmured "take heart, and get well" in his ear, and went back to finally take Concepcion's hand and get out of the room.

Ignacio remained stunned and rooted to the spot for several seconds, sitting alone on the sofa in the library. And try as he might, Alcalde Ignacio de Soto couldn't remember when was the last time he had been at the receiving end of a kiss.


	106. Ch 106 - A façade over a long face

"Diego, Felipe, would you believe that?" Alejandro asked. "It appears that Victoria and Zorro have broken up."

Felipe's jaw dropped, but he resisted the urge to glance at Diego for confirmation.

"Or rather," Alejandro went on, "it seems that _he_ has broken up with her. According to what little was comprehensible in what she told me earlier."

The three of them were in the garden while the alcalde's soldiers were once more searching the whole house for something, or this time _someone_ , that wasn't even there.

"She was so upset that she wasn't exactly coherent," Alejandro further explained, "but I could at least get that from what she said. But at some moment in the conversation, it was almost as if she was talking about someone else too, so it wasn't really clear, like she was mourning over another break-up too. But as I said, she was barely coherent, so I guess everything got confused in her mind. I suppose that it is what being smitten with someone whose identity is totally unknown to you does... But I really wonder what happened for _him_ to give up on her. And not the other way round, I mean. Did he commit himself to another woman? I can hardly imagine that."

"Perhaps he finally realised that he had nothing to offer her," Diego mournfully let out, "and he did the right thing by setting her free..."

Felipe turned to him, visibly astonished.

"He probably doesn't want her to waste her time and life anymore waiting for... for nought, in the end," Diego added with a shrug.

His father turned to him too, surprised by the weary tone of voice his son just used. He didn't understand: in a way, Diego should rejoice! So why the gloom?

Of course Alejandro was heartbroken for Victoria's obvious pain and for Zorro too, a man he thought highly of, but on the other hand... well, the silver lining in this sad piece of news was that now that Zorro had removed himself from the equation, it cleared the way for another man who'd have a thing for the charming señorita... but who had always been far too intimidated by the outlaw's formidable shadow hovering over her up to then to dare show his full appreciation of her.

And although Alejandro loved Victoria Escalante dearly and felt for her heartache, he couldn't help but hope for his son's chances and would definitely back him and his cause. But why wasn't Diego looking even remotely hopeful at hearing the unexpected news?

Why the long face?

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As soon as he could, Felipe dragged Diego by his elbow to his bedroom where he locked the door: he didn't want them to be interrupted or overheard by a passing soldier!

With fast and ample gestures, the young man jerkily asked his friend whether what his father said was true.

Once again Diego shrugged and for once he was almost rude to Felipe, replying that it was none of his business.

Felipe didn't let this deter him and asked if this was part of a plan to make Zorro renounce Victoria and give up on her only to better have Diego finally have a chance to vie for her affections and sue for her hand.

"Just drop it," Diego simply retorted, visibly weary.

Felipe frowned. He insistently looked at Diego with a loud _why?_ written all over his face.

He signed that this was the ideal time to finally openly woo her as himself, with Zorro off the picture. _Zorro can't offer her anything,_ he agreed, _but YOU can!_

Diego dejectedly shook his head, and motioned Felipe to the door. But the young man was stubborn and wouldn't leave. He stood in front of him with both fists on his hips, but then he had to remove his hands from there to sign his next sentence: _but you don't have the choice anymore: you now HAVE to officially court her and sue for her hand in marriage!_

Felipe looked visibly angry at him, but Diego shrugged again. As far as Zorro's fight was concerned, of course the young man had a voice in it – figuratively speaking – but Zorro's complicated love life and choices in that matter were none of his accomplice's business: it was too personal a matter. Diego turned his back on Felipe and finally replied:

"I don't _have_ to do anything, and I _won't_ vie for her hand. Period. The rest is none of your business."

But Felipe thought that since he cared for Victoria and cared for Diego, then it _was_ his business. Or at least his concern. He raised his arms to grab his tall friend by his shoulders and turned him around vigorously and unceremoniously. Diego could see at the young man's face and at his shaking clenched fists that he was really angry. At him. But he didn't even have the time to brush him off before Felipe started signing that he thought better of him.

"Well, I'm sorry that my tenacity is not up to your expectations," he retorted drily, "but I happen to think that my tortuous and disastrous love life is more my business than yours. Or my father's, for that matter."

And when his younger friend replied that his father didn't know what _he_ , Felipe, knew, Diego simply answered:

"Well, since both Zorro and I are giving up on Victoria, it doesn't matter whether we are the same person or two different people, does it? In fact and for the first time in years, the state of Zorro's relationship with Victoria and mine are in total concordance and consistency. I suppose it will be relaxing, in a way... in the long run."

But Felipe shook his head vigorously and shrugged, to signify that Diego was missing his point. After that, he pointed at his own eyes and then at Diego

"What do you mean, _you saw me_?"

Then Felipe made the sign for 'Victoria'.

"So what?"

Felipe pointed at Diego, then at himself, made with his fingers the sign for 'walking', then he signed 'riding' and pointed in the general direction of the pueblo. Diego was following and filling in the blanks, because upset as he currently was, Felipe's signing was being a bit erratic.

"You... me... followed me... to Los Angeles?"

Felipe nodded, then he pointed again at Diego, then signed 'tavern', and then he drew a crescent in the sky with his index finger.

"...me... to the tavern... at night...? Well, Felipe, I often go to the tavern, you know that... And I happen to give Victoria a helping hand with some thing or another from time to time..." Diego tried to argue, sweating a bit though at the thought of Felipe's suspicions.

Once again the young man put his fists on his hips and tilted his head to the side, in an _I'm no fool_ attitude. Then he pointed at Diego, tilted his head over his joined hands, closing his eyes as if he was sleeping on a pillow, and then he made the sign meaning 'Victoria'.

"...me... sleeping... Victoria," Diego translated as and when Felipe was talking.

 _Ow_ , Diego thought. Felipe knew, then. He blanched. There was no use denying any longer with him. Well, whatever.

"Anyway, as I said earlier I can't offer her what she seeks. She has spent the former years being in love with a dream, an illusion, but the man of flesh and blood can't live up to her years-long expectations for the future she dreamed of, unfortunately."

Felipe looked surprised and quickly signed his next question, while Diego followed his erratic 'words' with some difficulty:

"...Victoria... disappointed... behind the mask... me?" he translated. "No," he then answered, "at least not yet, and for a good reason: she still doesn't know."

This time Felipe looked downright stunned. He was almost shaking while signing another question.

"Then why... Victoria... sleeping... with me?" Diego deciphered.

He sighed.

"It's a long story, Felipe," he answered, "and one which is to remain between Victoria and me. She had her reasons, and those are none of anyone else's business. And anyway this too is over now, if it can set your mind at rest," Diego added, dejectedly throwing his jacket on a nearby chair. "So it doesn't matter anymore. Now just drop the subject, and forget about it all."

He ostensibly turned his back on Felipe, who walked around him to put himself again in front of Diego.

"No Felipe," the latter said just as he saw that the young man was about to tell him something else, "not now. I really don't want to talk. And anyway, we have a guest tonight for dinner," he added in a sigh, "I have to get changed. And to don a carefree façade. Now please go to the library and make sure that the soldiers are not being too thorough in their search around the fireplace, will you?"

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Dinner had been superbly insipid, Araceli thought once she had swallowed the last bite of it.

"Congratulations to your cook, Alejandro," she said aloud. "Once more it was perfect!"

"Indeed, I truly loved it," Don Diego added with feigned enthusiasm. "Except perhaps for the chilli seasoning," he added with a discreet knowing wink at her, "it was a bit too strong for my palate's resistance I'm afraid," he said in his usual self-depreciating and apologising tone of voice.

The night before, after dinner, Alejandro's cook and Señorita Escalante had quickly brainstormed over how to modify recipes and what ingredients to substitute in order to produce the blandest dishes possible without arousing suspicion regarding their visual appearance or their texture; and when earlier in the afternoon Araceli had asked the cook about it once back from the tavern, she heard with some surprise about pork and chicken meat marinating in lots of clear water for the whole night to exude part of what gives it its flavour and aroma, about flour added to the mix, and even some part of sawdust!

 _Ew_ , Araceli thought, _did Señorita Escalante really make us eat sawdust?_ Probably, and there was certainly some of it in her 'apple cake', in which apples, as she suspected, had been replaced by turnips, egg yolk by mere sunflower oil, and sugar reduced to the bare minimum required to mask the bitterness of turnips.

And the red wine? Real wine – or rather plonk – diluted in water, with added cochineal for the colour. And vinegar.

The mashed potatoes? No salt at all, no nutmeg either, not even butter or cream or milk: simply boiled potatoes mashed with some clear water and a trickle of sunflower oil. And also some flour, again.

Araceli went back to the present and glanced at the alcalde. She hid her smile when she saw his puzzled expression, and she remembered having to bit her lip to keep herself from chuckling when a few minutes earlier Don Diego pretended choking on his mouthful of fish and knocked back two glasses of bland white wine, saying that the dish was a bit too hot and spicy for him.

Araceli had immediately seized the line he had thrown and said that indeed, perhaps there was a little bit too much chilli in the seasoning, but that it didn't bother her because she liked it hot and spicy. Don Diego had stopped chewing and thrown her a strange look while Alejandro turned his shocked involuntary chuckle into a fit of coughing. Araceli knew she shouldn't tease him like that of course, especially in the presence of his son and of a third party, she knew that she simply didn't have the right to tease him anymore, but she had always loved how shocked the very proper caballero in him generally reacted to her unexpected innuendos, and well... she just couldn't help it. And indeed a rather becoming although discreet rosy blush had just crept up his cheeks and forehead.

Once he had recovered Alejandro had thrown her a slightly reproachful look but he then followed her in the charade started by his son and echoed her words:

"Yes, it is perhaps a bit too hot and spicy, but this main course is otherwise perfect, isn't it Alcalde?"

And while de Soto had puzzledly babbled a polite answer, Araceli couldn't help but once more marvel at Don Diego's acting skills, as she had watched him appreciatively out of the corner of her eye. Day by day since she met him, she was continuously revising her initial opinion of him: and the more she knew him, the more she watched him interact with Leonor, but also the more she heard what was said of him in the pueblo... and the more she thought that people around here didn't recognise Diego de la Vega for his true worth...


	107. Ch 107 - A sound advice

Alejandro sighed: he didn't understand why Diego didn't show more enthusiasm at the idea that Victoria was now free of any ties. Well, of course he knew of Diego's doubts about his own fertility, but surely if he really loved Victoria he wouldn't let this deter him from at least trying to win her heart... right?

_Or_... a little voice inside Alejandro's mind was telling him, or perhaps it was precisely _because_ he truly loved her that he was willing to stand aside and let her have the life she dreamed about... Alejandro's heart felt for his son and he suspected the sacrifice Diego was willing to make for his beloved's happiness. His rather recent admiration for his son and for his abnegation and self-denial grew even stronger. Really, he was the proudest father in the world, and he knew that from wherever she was, Diego's mother was certainly immensely proud too.

But also very sad. His own heart was bleeding for his son's sorrow, although part of him could understand Diego's point of view: Alejandro suddenly thought of what he would have done if he had been unable to give his wife the family life they had wanted and planned to have, if he had been unable to give her children and had known it before he dared asking her to marry him... Would he have had the same terrible courage as Diego, and given up on her? And once they had been betrothed, would he have had the admirable strength of letting her go?

And... despite being the most admirable and selfless choice... would it have really been the right one?

"The alcalde is gone," he heard Araceli tell him a she entered the library, "I don't think he suspected anything. But I couldn't help looking at him during dinner: his puzzled face was just too funny to look at!"

Alejandro put on a smile before turning to her, and indeed her cheer was rather infectious. He took her hand and raised it to his lips before dropping a very light and respectful kiss on the back it.

"Indeed, that's a fine and funny idea you had!" he told her. "Did you see his face when he sipped his wine?"

"Oh, because you dare call it _wine_?" she replied, smiling broadly.

Indeed, her smile was very catching, and he couldn't help but mirror it. Against his better judgement. How came that he managed to go from mourning for Diego's sorrow to smiling with Araceli is the span of so little time? He suddenly felt bad for betraying his son's pain by heartily laughing with his former lover, and couldn't repress another faint sigh. And what would his late wife think of him, from her Heaven up above?

"What's wrong, Alejandro?" Araceli asked, visibly concerned for him.

He frowned, deep in thought.

"Araceli..." he finally let out a bit hesitantly, "what would you... what if... what would you have decided if..."

He paused, bit his lip, took a breath in, and started all over:

"Araceli, if we didn't have had Leonor, I mean if you hadn't even gotten pregnant at the time we... hum... well... would you have tried to have a child by now? I mean, it was years ago, and you are so clearly made to be a mother... and a good one at that! Would you have... made a child these past years? Or planned to make one in the years to come? With someone else of course, I mean..."

She stared at him curiously, and finally answered:

"It's always difficult to tell about was has not been, about 'what ifs'... about the roads not taken. I honestly don't know. If I hadn't had Leonor... if..."

She paused.

"Well, my personal life would be totally different, that's for sure," she went on. "Leonor was... _unplanned_ of course, so... would I have wanted a child, by now? I can't tell for sure. Would I have recovered enough from my son's death to plan on making another child, on risking my heart on another child? I honestly don't know. That's why I'm glad for Leonor's existence: at least she invited herself, in a way, and didn't let me, let _us_ , dwell on the matter. Perhaps my fears would have had the better of me, at the last moment. Or perhaps not. I will never know."

Alejandro looked at her.

"That was not exactly what I was asking about..." he said at last in a low voice, "but thank you for your honest answer. And for your sincerity: you rarely... you rarely talk about him... your son, I mean."

"I know," she simply replied in a quiet voice. "But I feel appeased now about him, and even about his death. I know it now sounds stupid, but at first I feared that Leonor would... I don't know... take his place, in a way. But even before she was born I finally understood that he would forever remain my firstborn, and that Leonor would be her own person. Not a substitute. And that he would forever have his place, and Leonor her own. Perhaps it is because I feel at peace with this that I don't feel the need to often talk about José. I have mourned him, then I have mourned my marriage, and I have finally gotten on with my life. It does not mean that I forgot, either the good or the bad things of my past... All of this is part of me, of my life. Has contributed to make me the person I am. With my good and my not-so-good sides..."

She smiled on her last sentence, and Alejandro didn't immediately know what to say.

"But something is telling me that it is still not really what you were asking about," she added. "So tell me, Alejandro, what was this rather serious question truly about...?"

Once again he looked at her, berating himself for thinking her less than she was: he couldn't fool her and with time, she had learned to recognise the signs that something serious was bothering him.

"All right," he admitted. "Let's say... but I must swear you to secrecy, first..."

Alejandro looked so serious that Araceli gave him her word without any further question.

"Well," he went on, "Let's say that... that a _friend_ of mine is secretly in love with a woman who doesn't suspect his true feelings, and... well, this woman is free of any ties, legally and huh... _sentimentally_ speaking too, now..."

He paused, and Araceli nodded to encourage him. A _friend_ , uh? She was no fool but didn't let anything show.

"And... and this woman has always envisioned her life with a husband and a family of her own... I mean, with _children_. And... now let's say that this friend suspects that... that he can't give her these children..."

Araceli frowned: what on Earth could make Alejandro doubt his own fertility? He had already proven himself, though. Twice! And even more than that: the first time had turned into a double-strike, and the second time, well... it occurred without him even meaning to! So unless over the past few years– but no: she had had first-hand evidence, no further back than six months earlier, that he hadn't become impotent with time...

So only one other hypothesis arose in her mind: Alejandro probably considered that he now was too old to raise any other children. And indeed, how old would he be when these hypothetical children reach adulthood? Almost eighty? Perhaps it was a wise decision, after all... And a very selfless one. Her already high esteem for the man grew even higher.

"And...?" she gently said to encourage him to go on with his explanation.

"And... he is currently considering giving up on his dreams of a life with this woman just so that she can have the kind of life she has always dreamed of..." he completed. "With some other man than himself."

_Oh Dios!_ Araceli felt heartbroken for Alejandro, a little bit jealous of the devotion Señorita Escalante inspired him, but also immensely admiring of his selflessness; she wasn't sure whether she would be able of such self-denial! And yes, her admiration for Alejandro grew even stronger, if such a thing was possible.

"So," he went on, oblivious to her inner thoughts, "my question is: what would you do in his place? What do you think is the best decision? Or the wisest one? Should I advise him to stay away from her, or on the other hand to try his chance at courting her and finally ask for her hand in marriage?"

A string somewhere in Araceli's heart twanged rather unpleasantly, like it had been tugged by something unknown. _Unknown_ , really? She dispelled this thought, as well as she quickly brushed away the unexpected but suddenly very strong temptation to advise him to let his _friend'_ s ladylove live her life with any another man and raise the family she wanted.

But no, Alejandro was asking for a serious piece of advice, one which could send his life and his future in one direction or another. So she owed him an honest and disinterested opinion on the matter. She looked down at her feet, deeply thinking about what she would rather be faced with, should she be in that woman's position.

But there was one thing she didn't understand: didn't Alejandro say that he – or rather, his _friend_ –loved this woman _secretly_ , without her being aware of it? And yet he and Señorita Escalante were having an affair, it seemed, so how could she still ignore his feelings?

Well, of course people could have an affair without being truly in love with each other for all that, Araceli knew that first hand! A combination of deep mutual understanding and appreciation, tender friendship and physical attraction was enough for that, but Señorita Escalante struck her to be the romantic kind – which _she_ , Araceli, was absolutely not – so she wouldn't have thought this girl would have had a relationship with someone based only on friendship, kindness and lust. But it was just one more proof that although you think your judgement on someone is spot on, you're generally wrong about them... Conclusion: never trust your first opinion – or even the second or third one – on people, because you can never tell...

After she stared at the floor for a few seconds she met Alejandro's gaze and asked him:

"And you said that this woman doesn't know the true extent and nature of your friend's feelings for her? Are you sure she doesn't even suspect it?"

"Yes, I don't think she knows how strongly and seriously he feels for her."

Araceli fell silent for some time. Her admiration for Alejandro reached a level she didn't suspect existed. Yet at the same time, she had always known how very decent and selfless a man he was, but still, he didn't cease to impress her: giving up on his own dreams for his beloved's happiness! Being ready to see her happy with another man rather than risking to keep her unhappy tied to himself...

She sighed, and then she asked a last question:

"And... and your _friend_... Are you absolutely certain that this is really _love_ that he is feeling for her?"

Alejandro eyed her seriously.

"Yes. Yes, I am sure. He is truly in love with her."

The heartstring in Araceli's chest twanged again, but she chose to ignore it and after she chewed on her lower lip for some time she drew in a sharp intake of breath, raised her head high up, looked Alejandro straight into his eyes and stated:

"Then if your friend truly loves this woman, he should first and foremost respect her judgement. And trust it, instead of deciding for her: it's highly annoying how you men tend to disregard and override our right to decide for ourselves, to have a say in the matters directly affecting our life! So if I were your friend, I would take my courage in both hands, go see her, and work up the nerve to declare my love and to confess the torch I have been carrying for her before it consumes me entirely; then I would explain her the part about not giving her children, about the impossibility of building the family she has always imagined; and finally I would act like a man worthy of the name and lay my life at her feet, all the while making sure that she doesn't feel pressured. Making sure that she knows that she is free to decline, that the final decision is to be hers and hers only, and that I would respect it."

She paused, and then she concluded:

"You wanted advice on the matter? Here is mine: be honest with her, and respectful of her freedom to choose with full knowledge of the facts."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Alejandro had listened to her speech with eager attention and growing admiration, and when she had finished he felt a surge of deep affection for her and had to fight a compelling urge to take her in his arms for a strong and loving embrace. If only Diego could have heard her tirade! He swore to himself that he'd repeat it to his well-meaning son, and hoped that Diego would follow this sound advice and pluck up the courage to face his fears.

She was smiling at him, with... something... in her eyes. He smiled back.

"Gracias," he finally managed to say once he trusted his voice again. "In a way I should have known that you would advise something of that kind: _'rather remorse than regrets'_ , I remember..."

And with these words, Alejandro once more raised her hand to his lips and kissed it with a fond smile. He immediately knew he shouldn't have done that when he felt his stomach do some sort of somersault in his abdomen and his heartbeat put on a sprint in his chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep intake of breath to calm down.

"Although on the other hand," he went on after this pause, "as far as matters of the heart and associated feelings are concerned you're more on the _'better safe than sorry'_ side usually... So why this new policy?"

"Well, you know the saying..." she replied. "Advice is cheap... And also this one: counsellors are not payers."

"In other words, 'do what I say, not what I do', right?" he retorted with a teasingly raised eyebrow.

"Well, I never said that I was absolutely _always_ being logical and predictable!" she told him with a playful wink.

"And rightly so..." Alejandro deadpanned.

She chuckled heartily and this tinkling sound made him smile. He loved it. Then he looked at her sparkling eyes a bit too long and immediately regretted it when he felt a growing urge to lean in, to brush his lips against hers, to share her breath and finally, to kiss her sweetly and passionately.

Alejandro now was able to put a name on the exasperated feeling Señor Guzmán was eliciting in him. _Jealousy_. He wasn't fool enough to deny it any longer. Especially as he was now looking at her lips and daydreaming about kissing these. He shook his head to dispel the thought as he tore his gaze away from her mouth, and although his heart was almost thumping against his ribcage he managed to simply slip his arm under hers while leading her down the hallway. _Oh, no_... he recognised the signs: he was still terribly attracted to her. He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second.

"Oh, by the way," he forced himself to tell her cheerfully, "Felipe told me just before dinner that he got word from Zorro that your Don Rodrigo is safely hidden among the Chumash, under Singing-Wind's protection. The alcalde won't think about looking for him there, I think..."

Alejandro let go of her arm: better not touch her. _Oh yes,_ he wanted her, there was no denying that either. And the memory of her cheeky comment during dinner didn't do anything to help his suddenly lustful mind calm down. He sighed and berated himself inwardly to try to get a grip. And with the blood making his veins throb in his ears, he didn't really pay attention to her reply of:

"Thank God... but for Heaven's sake, Alejandro, he's certainly not _my_ Don Rodrigo!"

Doing his best to avoid any physical contact with her, he saw her to her door and bid her good night as fast as politely possible, before quickly retreating to the safety of his own bedroom.


	108. Ch 108 - Time to reap what was sowed

After five days of this sorry diet – as well as some 'nudging' here and there from Zorro – Ignacio de Soto was perfectly ripe and ready for picking and harvesting, so Araceli put in motion the last act of her plan.

Said plan had a flaw though, but the Los Angeles cuartel mess proved to be up to her hopeful expectations: granted the alcalde didn't always eat at the tavern, especially since Señorita Escalante's cooking became so disappointing in Ignacio's opinion, but thankfully the military cantina's everyday fare usually tasted just as bland as the one in San Diego, so de Soto didn't suspect the deception.

As she was watching his office from the tavern's porch where she was sipping freshly pressed lemonade, Araceli briefly glanced at the innkeeper. Señorita Escalante had looked a bit despondent over the past days, and she suspected it had something to do with Alejandro's doubts and interrogations. But she had decided once and for all that this was none of her business, and that Alejandro was old enough to make his own choices, good or bad, and to live his life without interference.

The mailcoach arrived and stopped in the middle of the plaza, and among the people waiting for their mail she spotted Don Diego, according to the plan. He knew what part he had to play in today's act, and Araceli was sure that he would deliver his cue just at the right time, she trusted him on that: after all, he had practised theatre in his youth, didn't he? And he was a good and convincing actor.

She thought back about the little interaction she recently had with him and discovered that he was more caring than met the eye on first impression. During the past days, either she or Don Diego had gone to the Chumash settlement to visit Don Rodrigo and keep him and Singing-Wind informed of the last developments of the situation and of the alcalde's reactions.

She chuckled when she remembered that she even told Señor Guzmán that as soon as he could come back to the pueblo as a free man he'd certainly have a business appointment to honour: the seamstress had complained that the alcalde was making her miss an interesting opportunity, as she and Don Rodrigo had started discussing the possibility for her to buy broadcloth, linen and other fabric rolls from him in the future. Araceli smiled: business is business indeed, and Señora Duarte was only adding grist to her mill for the next step of her plan, the one she was about to set into motion.

At last the alcalde got out of his office, so Araceli casually stood and idly crossed the plaza, doing her best to appear detached as though she was wandering aimlessly in the pueblo.

"Ouch" she heard de Soto say just as she collided with him in the middle of the plaza, "careful, Señora!"

"Oh, Señor Alcalde! I'm so sorry: I didn't see you. Please accept my apologies for my absent-mindedness, I'm afraid I had my head in the clouds..."

"No harm done, Señora, no harm done..."

"Still, I feel bad for my lapse in attention: I have recently received a letter from my parents, in Monterrey", she lied. "I must confess that I am perhaps a bit envious of them: last week they were once more invited by the governor for a party, and he congratulated and praised them on contributing to the economical prosperity of California through their business and through supporting and developing trade within California as well as with the rest of the world... And to think that right at the same time I was stuck in a stagecoach on dusty roads!"

She sighed with some exaggeration and looked down, but then she sharply raised her head and gasped:

"Oh, Dios, it makes me think... Well, I'm complaining about my own fate, and rather superficially so, but perhaps I should rather be worried for you Alcalde!"

"Worried for me? I really can't see why, Señora, I have nothing to complain for!"

"Not yet..." Araceli retorted. "But once the governor hears about the ban of all Indians from the tavern, he'll probably interpret this as an impediment to the local business, as a brake to economical development of this pueblo..."

De Soto frowned:

"I don't think he'd–"

But she didn't let him end his sentence and added:

"Oh, and what if in addition he hears of the arrest of a renowned businessman from Ensenada, who came all the way to Los Angeles in order to weave trading relations here and help develop the local business too!"

She gently laid both hands on Ignacio's forearm to express her concern for him:

"I truly hope he doesn't interpret this all as a form of bad will from your part regarding the economical development of Los Angeles. Oh my God," she gasped again, "I really shouldn't have detailed the last news from here in the letter I sent my parents four days ago! If only I had known... I only hope it won't bring too much problems on you if ever they idly tell the governor about it while chatting with him."

Araceli watched his reaction out of the corner of her eye, with delight. But she did her best to keep a poker face. After all, Ignacio de Soto had no way to know that the Ximenezes were not as well-connected with the governor as she just implied and let him think. They were rather mere acquaintances, and although they had already been invited by him in the past, they didn't rub shoulders with him on a weekly basis of course! But de Soto didn't need to know all this, did he?

"It's not... I'm not..." the alcalde started to say. "The governor certainly doesn't think that I could have anything else in mind than the common good of this pueblo!"

"What...?" Araceli asked, before pausing a bit to ostensibly think about what he said. "Nay..." she finally said, instilling just the right subtle hint of doubt in her tone, "no you're right, he certainly wouldn't think that, would he?"

Another pause.

"Well, to make up for my earlier clumsiness which made me collide with you, may I invite you for a drink at the tavern? I know it is still early, but Señorita Escalante's wine or orange juice are so good, aren't they? I heard that she was preparing enchiladas for lunch, would you have some of these with me? Or just a slice of her delicious apple cake?"

But de Soto eyed the tavern with a bit of apprehension, and the mention of Señorita Escalante's dreadfully tasteless apple cake seemed to fill him with despondency.

At the same moment, Don Diego walked to them and, after he politely greeted the alcalde, he handed Araceli an envelope.

"This letter just arrived for you from Monterey, Señora," he told her.

She took it.

"Oh, probably my parents... Thank you Don Diego. I suppose they expect to get another one from me in a few days, even before I go back to San Diego..."

She fanned herself with the closed envelope and noticed that de Soto seemed to be sweating a bit as he was watching it with slightly unquiet eyes.

"Don Diego," Araceli went on, "I have just invited the alcalde to have a drink and a snack at the tavern with me, will you join us too?"

"I'd be delighted to, thank you Doña Araceli: Victoria's cooking is absolutely delicious."

"Indeed" she agreed, "and that way it may convince the governor that Alcalde de Soto here is not trying to bring down the economical prosperity of this tavern as well as the local trade!"

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Here is your order, Señora and Señores," Victoria announced as she put down three glasses and a plate on their table.

"Gracias Victoria," Diego told her as he raised his head and sent a bashful smile her way.

She mirrored it with an equally bashful smile of her own, and she went back to her kitchen.

Diego repressed a sigh: at least Victoria and him were beginning to behave a bit more normally around each other again, and even _with_ each other, and they could even look at each other in the eyes now without averting their gaze immediately; but there was still a long way to the ordinary ease and normalcy they had had for years before they started their physical liaison, and even more before he ended it. He could only pray and hope that with time, they would at least mend their friendship to what it was six months earlier.

But for the time being, they were still very awkward toward each other, and even Doña Araceli had noticed it; but thank God, she didn't seem to know what to do of this piece of information.

"Ignacio," Diego said to resume their earlier conversation, "do you know that Señora Duarte is as much disappointed as you are at Señor Guzmán's disappearance? She told me that he had started negotiating with her about selling her some fabric for her business at absolutely unbeatable prices in the years to come."

"Well Diego, as much as I care for the happiness and well-being of the people of Los Angeles," the alcalde retorted, "I have much more delicate matters to dedicate my mind to than the mood of the seamstress."

And he sipped a gulp of whatever dull liquid was in his glass to show his disinterest in Señora Duarte's business.

"Oh but, Don Ignacio," Araceli said as again she idly laid a hand on his forearm, "wouldn't that be a good opportunity to show how concerned you are for the pueblo's prosperity as well as California's by helping its economy and trading business thrive?"

She absent-mindedly pulled out her so-called letter from her parents and fanned herself with it, making the gesture appear to be totally casual. She didn't state aloud that dropping the charges against Don Rodrigo would be a good idea in the alcalde's situation for the opinion the governor might have of him, but she just let this notion worm its way in his mind.

Diego saw de Soto visibly swallow, and he couldn't help but inwardly acknowledge Doña Araceli's acting talent and craft for its true worth, as far as any kind of negotiation or business was concerned.

"And honestly Ignacio," Diego picked up on her veiled argumentation, "is it really fair to deprive all the Indians of Victoria's excellent cooking? It doesn't make sense, you'll certainly admit it..."

And as soon as he ended his sentence, he picked a slice of what was supposed to be ham in the plate in front of them, but was probably just salt-free chicken coloured with cochineal...

Doña Araceli took the plate and placed it right under de Soto's nose:

"Here, have some, it's so delicious!"

But he declined and looked at it as well as at his glass with a heavy sigh.

"After all..." he finally let out, "perhaps you are right, Diego. And the Indians have now been warned of what will happen if ever they don't behave here in the pueblo, and even more in the tavern..."

"Too bad you are not being so strict toward the other kinds of unpleasant customers, Alcalde!" Victoria suddenly piped in. "There are lots of other people who don't behave here in my tavern, and I generally have to make the police myself to maintain order and calm..."

"Then why did you protest when I banned Blue-Eagle from your establishment after he made a scandal inside it?"

"Because you didn't only ban Blue-Eagle, but all the Chumash tribe with him, that's why!" she almost shouted, exasperated.

"Then you'll be glad to hear that I immediately lift the ban on the Indians," he retorted. "Happy?"

"Delighted," she replied through gritted teeth.

"Really?" Diego asked him. "Immediately?"

De Soto nodded.

"That's a good decision, Señor Alcalde," Doña Araceli told him.

"Indeed it is," Diego echoed. "And you know what? I think it deserves celebration... Victoria, could you please bring us a bottle of your best Madeira?" he asked, sending a meaningful wink her way.

She nodded to inform him that she got his unspoken message.

"Si Don Diego, right away!"

And she disappeared behind her curtain.

"And what about Señor Guzmán, Ignacio...?" he then asked the alcalde.

"I suppose that I can put his reaction down to a slightly too fiery chivalry and a bit too much stubbornness... which will be easily forgivable as soon as he pays the fine. If he comes back to the pueblo and pays what he owes, then he will be a free man," de Soto said a bit reluctantly. "Free to make all the business he wants with Señora Duarte or anyone else..."

Victoria came back with a bottle of deep red wine as well as three tin cups, and she swiftly gabbed everything else on the table: the former tampered wine, the fake ham and the glasses disappeared from there as she brought these back to her kitchen.

Diego poured the wine in the cups and, after a toast, he sipped his drink while eyeing de Soto's reaction to it. And he wasn't disappointed: the alcalde's face as he had the first mouthful of something that truly tasted anything in five days was priceless! Indeed, Victoria had really gotten the true meaning of his earlier message!

Ignacio looked surprised, glanced at the wine like he was drinking this for the first time in his life, and closed his eyes as he savoured his second swallow of it like it was divine ambrosia.

"Still as exquisite as ever, Señorita," Doña Araceli commented as Victoria was passing by with a tray.

"Exquisite is the word, Victoria," Diego said before he sent another awkward smile her way.

She simply nodded and quickly turned to the alcalde, waiting for him to express his opinion on her wine.

"It's been a long time since I last tasted anything that good," he finally told her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Diego saw Doña Araceli's struggle against the chuckle threatening to escape from her lips and throat. And when she finally lost this battle, she hid the resulting bursting laughter behind the mask of a fake fit of coughing that she smothered in her napkin.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

After the alcalde finally left her tavern, Victoria saw Diego and Doña Araceli stand to leave too, so she made her way to them in order to bid them good bye. But once she was within earshot, she saw the Señora stretch her hand out to him as she joyfully told him:

"Well, you and I are making a good team it seems, don't you think?"

And when Diego nodded and shook her outstretched hand, Victoria didn't quite know what to make of this all...


	109. Ch 109 - Tissue of lies out of whole cloth

A couple of hours after he was informed that he was free to come and go, Don Rodrigo showed up in the pueblo and went straight to his bedroom in the tavern, without taking the time to answer any of people's questions about his whereabouts and his hideout while he was on the run.

"Buenas tardes Victoria," Don Alejandro joyfully greeted the innkeeper, stepping inside with Felipe in tow. "Have you heard the good news?"

"Buenas tardes Don Alejandro, buenas tardes Felipe. If you mean the one about the ban, yes I have. I even was the first to hear it, from our dear alcalde himself, as well as the news about Señor Guzmán..."

"Oh, yes, good news too," Alejandro replied. "Did he already come back to the pueblo?"

"He did. He went to his room, and then he left not even one hour later after a change of clothes and with a few letter in his hands. He asked me to send these by the next mailcoach. But if you expected to see him here, then I'm afraid you will have to wait: he left the tavern just after to cross the plaza. Apparently he knocked on Señora Duarte's door, according to what Corporal Sepulveda said."

_Oh yes,_ Alejandro thought, the seamstress... He remembered Araceli telling him something about Don Rodrigo having to discuss some business deals with her as soon as he was free. Well, he didn't waste any time! But time is money, they say... and for businesspeople it seemed to be of the essence, according to Araceli.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"And he kept you hidden all this time?" a caballero asked Guzmán while having a drink on the tavern porch.

"He did," Don Rodrigo simply answered.

The 'official' version was that Zorro had helped him hide out in some discretely concealed cave in the hills. Guzmán didn't want to bring any kind of problem or retribution upon either the Indians or the de la Vegas who helped him a lot. Or upon Doña Araceli, whose company had been a real pleasure during the coach ride and who sided with him to protest against the alcalde's unjust treatment of the local Indians.

"He came several times a day to bring you food and water, and you never saw his face? Not even once?" a vaquero insisted.

Don Rodrigo stopped himself from looking either at Don Alejandro or at the young deaf-mute beside him, who of course both knew that this story was a complete fabrication made up out of whole cloth. _'Whole cloth'_... funny, considering his line of business!

"No," he finally answered the vaquero, "he always kept his mask on. At first I thought he was just a bandit who abducted me for money, but he didn't ask anything from me, he just said he wanted to help and protect me. And after the first day, I began to believe him. I asked him who he was, he replied that it was better that no one knew the answer to this question, and out of respect for him and for what he was doing for me I didn't pry any further."

"And can you lead us to this hidden cave, tomorrow?" Sergeant Mendoza asked him. "I'm curious to know where it is..."

"I bet you are, Sergeant," Don Alejandro retorted.

"Eager to find Zorro's hidden lair, aren't you?" the innkeeper added. "Or rather, to pocket the bounty for his capture..." she said putting her left fist on her hip, frowning.

"Señorita... it's not... I mean, I am a soldier of the king, so my duty..."

He paused, and apparently didn't find anything else to say to defend his case in the innkeeper's eyes, because he simply turned to Don Rodrigo and cleared his throat before telling him:

"Still, Señor Guzmán, it must have been weird for you. And boring, spending all this time stuck in a cave, night and day!"

"Not much more boring than being locked up in your cells, Sergeant," Don Rodrigo retorted with more humour than real animosity toward the portly man.

Mendoza chose not to reply to that, but instead his natural good heart made him sympathetically say:

"And I suppose that the food was very basic and rudimentary," he added with a poor smile and a little sigh, "and that you had only plain water to drink for five whole days! You must have missed the tavern's excellent meals..."

Victoria chuckled: typical Mendoza!

"I managed to survive, Sergeant. But thank you for your sincere sympathy."

"Perhaps you should try this from time to time, Sergeant," a soft quiet female voice told the rotund man from behind, "that way you wouldn't need to have your uniform altered to be upsized every six months..."

All heads turned to this thin and sweet veiled voice, and Rodrigo recognised the seamstress's eldest daughter. _Evita, Elvira, Elisa_... something like that. The young woman was carrying a parcel wrapped in brown paper and handed it to Mendoza.

"Here's your uniform, Sergeant. I did what I could, but next time don't even bother bringing it to us for loosening the seams: there will be not enough material left for that; in fact, it's already almost bursting at the seams. You can come by to pay your bill later, once you get your pay, but _before_ you dissipate all of it in Señorita Escalante's tavern, do I have your word on it?"

Despite the gentle tone of voice and the polite words, she sent him a serious look which clearly indicated that she and her mother meant business.

"Si Señorita, of course... Uh, gracias."

"De nada, Sergeant. After all, we can't let our brave soldiers and courageous defenders go bare-bottomed..."

The rest of the people present watched their banter with some amusement, and even Don Alejandro's deaf-mute apparently didn't miss one word of what the young seamstress was saying, because he didn't take his eyes off her lips the whole time. When Mendoza went back to the cuartel, Don Rodrigo watched the sergeant's retreating back but his thoughts were interrupted by the young girl's gentle and mellifluous voice murmuring very close to his ear:

"You are lucky that the good sergeant didn't notice how healthily tanned you look for someone who just spent five days confined nonstop inside a dark cave..."

Rodrigo abruptly turned to her. Thankfully, no one else seemed to have heard what she just told him. Only the deaf-mute saw her speak, but the boy already knew the truth about where he spent these past five days, he even discreetly visited the Chumasch settlement to keep them informed, so it didn't matter. But the young woman obviously didn't buy his official version about his hideout, and thanks to her perceptiveness, she now suspected that he was lying for some reason.

"I rejoice that you and my mother are in business, Señor," she said aloud, or at least as loud as her veiled voice allowed her to. "I am convinced that it will be advantageous to both parties."

Way to remind him not to mess with them, Rodrigo thought. _I know you're lying,_ she seemed to be telling him, _so_ _don't try to fool us or there will be consequences..._

"Your mother and I are discussing an agreement that will indeed benefit both parties, Señorita, and I have the habit of fulfilling my commitments, as well as my part of a deal."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

A blissful haze had invaded Felipe's mind as soon as he heard Elvira's lulling voice, and he lost himself in gazing at her appealing lips. But he was finally roused from his pleasant daydream when his fogged mind nonetheless processed what these lips had just been discreetly telling Señor Guzmán.

_Ouch_... Well, she was observant, and Felipe couldn't help but admire her for her perceptiveness. But it could prove to be potentially problematic too. She hadn't been fooled by the tale they made up. Well, there was no lost love between her family and de Soto, so she certainly wouldn't tell the alcalde anything, but still... The less people knew about a secret that was none of their business, the better it was, in Felipe's opinion.

Of course this small discovery didn't really link Zorro to Diego, thank God, but it might link the outlaw's most recent action to the de la Vegas... Well, Don Alejandro's approval of the outlaw's fights was not exactly a secret, so it wouldn't surprise Elvira that Zorro helped their new acquaintance, and probably involved their assistance in doing so. But Felipe stored this knowledge of Elvira's quiet perceptiveness somewhere in the back of his mind, remembering to tell Diego to be extra careful around her: still waters run deep, and it's always the quiet one you have to watch.

And Felipe was of course all too willing to watch Elvira Duarte. Intently so. And as closely as possible, even.

But he suddenly let out a heavy sigh... _Nothing more than wishful thinking_ , he thought: she was smart, clever, graceful, three years older than he was, and she already had a real job. She would never pay attention to some deaf-mute, to a plain younger boy like himself, to a mere servant, and she would even less ever become interested in him. Not a chance. She didn't even know he was alive.

Sighing once more, Felipe thought that sometimes, boasting about being Zorro's helper and associate was really, really tempting. But with a shake of his head, he dispelled this traitorous and dangerous rather stupid thought. Being a hero without anyone knowing it really was a burden, but it was the cross he had to bear, and for once Felipe had an inkling of what Diego was feeling whenever Victoria used to openly praise Zorro's feats.

Which reminded him of the turn Diego and Victoria's relationship recently took. He frowned, then looked from the innkeeper to Don Alejandro. The older man certainly didn't know, but Felipe could easily imagine what Diego's father would think of his son's and Victoria's behaviour. Or would he really? After all, Don Alejandro himself wasn't without reproach in this respect, as Felipe and everyone else discovered six months earlier.

Really, the young man inwardly lamented, in the past few months his little world was really going awry: Don Alejandro, Diego, Victoria... Who else was going to lie to him and betray him, now?

But thankfully and on a brighter side, there had also been happy things in his life during the past six months. _Leonor_ , to begin with. Felipe had grown very fond of the little girl and it seemed to be mutual. He was glad to have some younger blood in the hacienda, and he would have to be blind not to notice how happy her stays were making Don Alejandro, who seemed to be ten years younger whenever she was in Los Angeles. Diego too obviously loved her, after some understandable initial difficulties when he first discovered her existence.

The other good thing in the past months was Leonor's mother herself. At first Felipe had been wary of her, but she turned out to be truly caring and good-hearted once you got to know her a bit better, and at least she treated him like any 'normal' young man his age. _Normal_ , only with the mere particularity of being deaf and mute; but otherwise 'normal'. She respected him and didn't treat him as if he was stupid. That was a nice change from other well-meaning but a bit patronising people among Don Alejandro's acquaintances.

Well, whatever. Right now, he had to go back home and warn Diego against Elvira Duarte's acute powers of observation.


	110. Ch 110 - A dawn of clarity

A few days later as Alejandro woke up in the morning with the first rays of the rising sun, for a couple of seconds he was almost surprised to find himself alone in his bed. Oh, of course, it had all been just a dream... But what a pleasant one! He had just dreamt of the time when he and Araceli were still together, of the time when he used to spend one week every month in San Diego.

In her house.

In her bed.

Relaxed and carefree. A nice casual break away from the concerns of his rancho.

The time before they broke up. The time before Leonor's birth. The time when they were lovers...

It had been a nice dream. He stretched out in his bed, a melancholy smile on his lips. It was a bygone era.

But Alejandro wasn't fooling himself anymore. This fluttering in his stomach, this speeding pace of his heartbeat, this lump in his throat... but also this excited feeling whenever he was thinking of Araceli, this eagerness he had to see her, this happiness her mere presence was bringing him, and above all this crucial importance her personal happiness had in his eyes... oh yes, Alejandro knew this feeling. He had already experienced it earlier in his life, he was not naive and did not mistake it for mere lust or physical attraction anymore: he was well and truly in love, and he now knew it.

Araceli... There was no use denying it anymore: he loved her, plain and simple. And not because she was his daughter's mother.

He sighed. He was painfully aware of the age gap between them, and of his own age. He knew he had nothing to give her.

Objectively, what would he have to offer to a wife, now? He stared at the ceiling without really seeing it and he inwardly listed the answers to this question. A name that carried weight, financial security for her and her children, a high social status, respectability in people's public opinion. And a sincere heart as well as his devotion. And his utmost respect.

Now he listed all that he probably couldn't offer her anymore in a few years. Weakening was now the formerly steady arm to protect her and her children weapon in hand. Gone was the dashing look of his younger days. His son and heir from a first marriage would inherit his hacienda and his whole rancho. And in a few years he would probably be only half the lover he was in bed only a decade earlier. If not even less.

And this train of thought led him to his next point: the slow but ineluctable physical decline due to old age. For the moment he was still in relatively good shape, but he was no fool: he already couldn't ride as long as before, couldn't fight as well, and his joints often reminded him of their existence.

In ten years of time from then, he'd be a doddery old man with shaky hands, possibly stuck in a wheelchair or at least stooped and leaning on a walking stick. Or even bedridden. He didn't have any right to doom a young woman to be his nurse for the ten or twenty years to come, and he knew that.

Again he quickly listed the pros and cons of what the situation would entail for her.

On the 'pros' side was first money. But Araceli was earning enough of it on her own to live a comfortable life and ensure her daughter's future; and in her eyes money was a tool rather than a purpose, a good servant but certainly not a master: she wasn't venal or interested.

His social status...? She wasn't seeking honours or public recognition for something she didn't do anything about. Rank and nobility? Irrelevant regarding a person's value, in her opinion.

Respectability? She seemed to have decided to write it off and kissed it goodbye the day she and her husband decided to publicly go their separate ways. And she didn't seem to attach too much importance to people's opinion. Probably not enough, in Alejandro's. But whatever.

Legitimisation for Leonor? Yes, Leonor would definitely be the one reason Araceli could renounce everything else that was dear to her in a heartbeat. And if Leonor were a legitimate child her future would certainly be eased... due to other people's reactions and opinion. For instance, very few high ranked caballeros would agree to a marriage with a bastard girl, even a de la Vega one... and even despite a comfortable dowry. And also in the lowest social classes, between two girls of same social rank people will always prefer a legitimate girl as a daughter-in-law than a bastard child. But despite his uptight upbringing, the father in Alejandro agreed with Araceli that a man to whom Leonor's lineage was more important than Leonor herself would not be worthy of her.

Now on the cons' side... Alejandro sighed. He was lucid, and painfully aware of the quarter of a century head start he had on Araceli. He would soon enter old age while she was in the prime of life, she was in summer while he was on the verge of winter. She was in July and he was on the eve of November. The only promise he could make her before the altar would be one of his looming inescapable decay, the prospect of spending the next ten or twenty years tending to a weakening old fogey of a husband who would slowly become more a millstone to her than the pleasant companion of her days. No, he didn't have the right to ask her to shackle herself to a chain and ball.

And anyway she would say no. She already did in fact. And if she refused his hand almost eight years earlier when he was younger and while they were still in a lovers' relationship, why on earth would she accept it now?

Alejandro shook his head, still staring at the ceiling. He loved her, yes. So he wouldn't try to get her back, and wouldn't bother her with his feelings. Young women weren't to waste their time with old men. Perhaps if he had been ten years younger he would have tried to win her again, to vie for her affections, to woo her...

And anyway she had a life back there in San Diego.

Strangely, finally putting a name on the turmoil of emotions he had been subjected to for months appeased him, in a way, and the knowledge that he wouldn't act on it contributed to this new sort of calm and peace of mind he was experiencing. Yes he loved her, but knowing that he renounced her made this jealousy he had been feeling subside: indeed, what was the point of being jealous of something you gave up? With Don Rodrigo Guzmán, with anyone else or more probably on her own Araceli was and would be happy in life, and that was what mattered most.

So Alejandro simply closed his eyes, trying to completely smother the small remains of sadness and loneliness he was feeling, as well as the echoing tug at his heartstrings spreading its rippling tremor up to his throat and down to the pit of his stomach. One-sided love was like an animal you had to tame, like a beast you slowly turned into a pet.

And to manage just that, Alejandro simply tried to concentrate on the utter ridiculousness of falling in love again at almost sixty years of age, especially with a thirty-something independent young woman...


	111. Ch 111 - Know thyself

Victoria was closing the tavern for siesta, and Diego was there among the last remaining customers. Perhaps if she asked him to stay... perhaps he'd agree to... to follow her upstairs for some frolics and afternoon delights?

She hadn't forgotten about his doubts, about his reservations, about him not wanting to keep her from trying her luck with another potential breeder, and about... about him not really wanting her? She hadn't forgotten that he had advised her to set her sights on someone else, but in truth, she didn't _want_ anyone else... Was it really so hard for him to fathom that she didn't want just anybody? That she didn't really want anybody else?

She sighed heavily while wiping a table, and Diego mistook the reason for it.

"Hard day's work?" he asked her with a gentle smile. "Well, only half a day yet, I mean..."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you very much for reminding me that, you're very helping!" she retorted. But she regretted immediately the tone of voice she just used when she saw his face. And after all, the sigh hadn't been about the hard work at all.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I should have rather offered my help." He got to his feet. "What can I do for you?"

Well, Victoria had a very precise idea of exactly _what_ he could do for her, of what he could do to ease her current state of mind, but she knew it wasn't at all what he was kindly offering.

"That' all right, Don Diego. I'll manage. I'll just wipe the tables and then I'll lock the door."

She was about to add that it was very kind of him to offer but that he could go and close the door behind him when some part of her mind realised it was as good a pretext as any to keep him to herself for a few minutes.

"But on second thought, I might sweep the floor too. So since you are graciously offering your help, could you please put all the chairs and benches on the tables, please?"

"Of course, Victoria..."

And he did.

"So, how are things at home, Don Diego?" she asked, just to make small talk. "How is Señorita Leonor coming to terms with the idea of her mother leaving tomorrow?"

"Oh, she is beginning to get used to it, now. Sometimes she even comes here without her mother accompanying her at all. And she knows that the separation is never for too long anyway, so she puts things into perspective. She is a really wonderful little girl."

"And you are not biased at all about your baby sister, of course..." Victoria pointedly remarked with much humour in her voice.

Diego chuckled.

"Absolutely not," he said with a broad smile, echoing her tone. "I am just as unbiased as my father as far as Leonor is concerned."

This time Victoria couldn't suppress a laugh.

"Well, I suppose it says everything," she finally teasingly told him.

"Hey, she is my little sister after all... you can't expect me to be completely objective!"

"And thank God you are not!" she replied, sweeping a heap of dust and breadcrumbs toward a dustpan.

"But in all impartiality, you cannot tell me that she is not endearing, with this mix of naive ingenuousness and bright cleverness..." Diego rhetorically retorted while picking up the dustpan for Victoria. "Not to mention how sweet she can be sometimes, or what a brave though reckless little girl she is!"

"Oh dear, you've become really smitten, haven't you? She could even wrap you around her little finger if she wanted to."

"Certainly not!" Diego protested, spreading breadcrumbs everywhere. "I am very lucid, and I wouldn't let a child manipulate me... She is only seven!"

" _For the moment_ she is still a child," Victoria pointed out. "But we'll talk about this when she's a fifteen-years-old cunning teenager, we'll see then..."

Diego playfully shrugged as he cleaned the mess he had just made with the breadcrumbs.

"I am not as naive as you seem to think, fair Señorita," he told her. "I'll have you know that I know a thing or two about young girls' tricks... and about youngsters' tricks in general, by the way."

"Recollection of your own rascally younger years, Don Diego?"

"Heaven forbid!" he retorted, raising is hand to his chest in sign of mock hurt and denegation. "I was the epitome of perfect obedience and responsible earnestness... A model child!"

"Hmm... really?" Victoria teasingly asked. "Well, I think I will just have to ask your father whether his memories of these times match yours..."

She saw him smile but he wisely didn't reply. He emptied the dustpan in the bin and turned back to her.

"Thank you for your help Don Diego," she told him.

She had reverted to call him _Don_ Diego even in private since they broke u– no, since _their deal ended_. Since _he_ ended their deal. A way to distance herself from him, from the temptation.

 _Distance_. She discovered that she hated that. At least between herself and Diego. _Don_ Diego. She suddenly didn't want him to go just yet.

"Sit down and have a drink, for your trouble..." she offered.

"Really Victoria, that's not necessary. I'll leave, you need your rest."

"Oh, really it is no bother. I don't really need to take a nap anyway. I slept all right last night. Orange juice, or something a bit stronger?"

"Orange juice will be perfect, gracias Victoria"

She filled two glasses and put these on a table, then she sat down beside him on a bench he had put back in its place.

"I am glad you stayed to help me," Victoria finally told Diego after sipping a first swallow of her drink. "I have missed you. Your company, I mean," she hastily added, "not... I mean... although of course I also miss... Well, I missed you being there."

"But I come here almost every day, Victoria!" he pointed out.

She repressed a frustrated growl. Didn't he really understand anything emotion-related?!

"That's not... the same. The same as right now I mean. I miss... I miss how relaxed you are when it's just the two of us, without anyone else present. Like right now. It was not like that before we started... uh... But in fact whenever someone else is around you are not exactly the same. And I also miss how... how at ease you were with me."

Diego chuckled.

"I don't remember being particularly at ease, the first times..."

She smiled.

"Of course not," she agreed. "I wasn't either. But later... we were comfortable, weren't we?"

He nodded slowly.

"But anyway it is over now," he reminded her.

"I know. I certainly haven’t forgotten your decision, and I respect it. But it doesn't mean that everything has to revert to how things were... Right? We are... closer, now. Closer friends. All in all it is not a bad thing to be close friends, right? Even only when no one else is around. I mean... it is like as soon as there is someone else present, you are a slight bit more... _tense_. Distant. I miss your nice and easy company, Diego. I miss how more open you were when we were lazily lying in bed and chatting about everything and nothing... I also miss how you were opening to me."

He looked at her seriously.

"Then perhaps it is a good thing I stopped opening to you..." he finally murmured, staring intently back at the content of his glass. "Not everything that is hidden deep inside me is nice and sweet and pleasant..."

She resisted a sudden urge to playfully tease him about Diego de la Vega having some unknown hidden darkness: he looked earnest about it, and now that she knew of his suspicions about his own infertility and the consequences it was having on his shattered earlier dreams, she understood that Diego de la Vega too could suffer great pains, just as anyone and even if he usually didn't let it show to other people.

In a way she felt privileged that he wasn't hiding this part of him from her anymore. Who else but his father, Felipe, and now Victoria herself knew this hidden depth of his? Who else did he consider worthy of so much trust? To the point of letting down part of his guard? Of figuratively undressing? Victoria wondered whether she was ready for Diego baring his soul before her. She suddenly felt like it was much more intimate than undressing one's body and stand naked before a lover's eyes. I was more than that. It was like taking off a mask concealing one's features, one's face. Something even Zorro never did for her.

Victoria didn't want Diego to shut up like a clam, so she fully turned to him and gently, without prying but clearly invitingly, she offered in a soft voice:

"Tell me..."

But he simply stooped a bit, as if retreating inside himself, and fixed his glass even more intently than before. Victoria sensed that he was evading, that he was slipping between her fingers like water or sand, so she slowly reached out to his hand on the table, gently covered it with her own and, without even squeezing it, she spoke again barely above a murmur:

"Diego, tell me what is troubling you? What do you think is so dark in your soul that you don't dare tell me about it? It's _me_ , Diego. _Me_... _Victoria_. Not just anybody. Not just the first person you happen to come across. We shared much in the recent months. Can't you also share your worries, your sorrows or your doubts with me?"

He seemed to hesitate, chewed on his lower lip and then stared at the old worm-eaten wood of the table. Victoria thought he would dodge the issue, but after letting out a long heavy sigh he finally confided:

"You said that I love Leonor, and I do, really! But... But also..."

He paused.

"Also...?" she prompted him encouragingly. "What on earth could be so dark about it?"

"Also... I... Well, I am not proud of that and I know how low and puerile it is, but I cannot help it: I still have trouble with the idea of... well, let's say the word: I am pettily jealous. Of my own baby sister. Of a child. Of a seven years-old. I guess it tells a lot about me, doesn't it?"

He still didn't dare look at her while confessing, so she told him:

"I think you are painting too dark a picture of yourself, for what my opinion is worth."

He had a joyless chuckle.

"Too dark, uh? Victoria, I am just a selfish only child who doesn't want to share his father with anyone else..."

"I don't think so," she retorted, "but let's try to be more specific: what exactly do you think you are jealous of?"

"You really want me to drink the cup to the lees, don't you?" he said. "All right, let's try to be more detailed."

He paused to think and put his ideas in order, then he went on:

"I think I envy the way he interacts with her... the fact that he is... cuddlier with her than I remember him ever being with me when I was her age. I envy the closeness he seems to have developed with her over the years behind my back. I envy the fact that he rides a hundred miles round trip every two or three months only to go see her."

"Diego, your father would travel to the end of the Earth for you if need were, you know that..."

Diego had a very poor little smile.

"Yes I know that, and that is precisely why I am feeling so bad about it all... I can't help it. I love Leonor but at the same time I can't totally block the petty feeling that she is somehow... _stealing_ my father from me. It is stupid and I really have to come to terms with that."

Victoria looked at him curiously. She hadn't suspected Diego's conflicted feelings about it all. She just thought he resented his father about his hidden past affair, but for the rest... Yes, she too thought that it was petty, but she admired that he was fully aware of it and didn't like this feeling, as well as she admired the fact that he truly wanted to fight it and eradicate it. He loved both is father and his sister dearly and he was a good and honest man, so Victoria was truly confident that he would manage to get over it.

"If you are feeling all these things toward Leonor and your father despite your own happy childhood filled with his love," she told him nonetheless, "then just imagine how Don Gilberto must have felt all this years..."

She regretted bringing up his late estranged twin brother as soon as she said the words, but it was too late. She saw his shoulders tense and he clenched his jaw.

"I know," he finally let out in a whisper. "And it makes me feel even worse about it all. I have been so much luckier than he's been, and yet I still want even more... I guess I would have been no better than he was if the roles had been reversed, if I had been the firstborn and the one the midwife had stolen..."

He raised a very pained look on her and added:

"So you see... he and I were really twins, two of a same kind. What is bred in the bone comes out in the flesh. Only the wonderful nurture I received fought and overcame my true nature. But the ugly beast is still there, it had just been lulled to sleep and hibernating for more than thirty years, and it needed just the right stimulus to wake up and rear its head... to show its true face. _My_ true face."

"Don't say that! You are not your brother, and your brother was not you. You can endlessly ponder upon what things would have been like and how they would have turned out if you had been the one taken, and make endless suppositions about it, but at the end of the day you were _not_ the one she took: you are the one who had been raised by Don Alejandro, and out of the baby boy he got your father made the good-hearted and caring man you are. And if you really need to be reassured, I can guarantee that absolutely everyone has his or her measure of selfishness, and it would be very vain of you to think that you should be better than any of us mere mortals on this respect."

He looked at her, clearly surprised and probably shocked by the bluntness of her last remark.

"You certainly have a peculiar way of making people feel better about themselves, Señorita," he finally deadpanned drily.

But then he smiled and she mirrored it.

"Gracias Victoria," he added.

He raised her hand to his lips and quickly dropped a chaste and friendly kiss on the back of her fingers, before releasing it.

"You're welcome, Don Diego. In fact it is not a bad thing that you are aware of what is inside your heart: that way you can remain wary of it and not let it take control over you."

He looked at her like he had never thought about it before, then he murmured:

"Unlike my twin brother..." He let out a small sigh. "...' _Know your enemy'_ , that's what you mean?"

"Especially the enemy you carry inside yourself. The one within yourself. And I am confident that you will win this fight."

He reached to her hand again and squeezed it.

"Gracias Victoria. You are such a precious friend..."

These words made her heart flutter, even more than the gesture itself – although the mere gesture was enough to cause a stir in her body, to tickle her stomach and make her heartbeat speed up a bit.

"I am glad you trust me enough to confide in me, Diego. You can always come to me for that, I'll lend an attentive ear to you. Be sure that you are a precious friend to me too." She squeezed his hand back. "And I am glad we are back to acting normally with each other again. We are, right?"

His smile lighted up his whole face and even his bearing changed. He was beaming.

"We're good, yes. Thank God."

"Si, gracias a Dios," she echoed, equally beaming.

The serious talk was over, but she didn't want him to go. She wanted to spend some more time in his company, to enjoy it for as long as possible. She opened a drawer, pulled out a well-worn deck of cards and asked:

"Now, what would you say about a game of piquet, kind sir?"

And when the siesta break ended and she had to put the cards away to open her tavern again, Victoria Escalante suddenly realised that she hadn't thought about Zorro the whole day – well, except once when she inwardly contrasted her former suitor's stubborn refusal to show her his face with Diego's new openness to her.

...And also that she hadn't really missed him for even longer than that.


	112. Ch 112 - All aboard, imminent departure!

"Oh, mi gatita, I love you much much much."

Araceli was clutching her daughter and hugging her very closely, inhaling the scent of her child's hair as though it was the air she needed to breathe.

"Te amo mucho mucho también, Mamá," Leonor replied, failing at totally keeping herself from sniffing.

Araceli composed herself and released her clasp on her daughter. She was now simply crouching in front of her and holding her shoulders, looking seriously in her eyes.

"Be good with Papá mi Tesoro. And with Diego. And don't bother Felipe too much. And obey Concepcion. And–"

"Araceli, my dear," Alejandro interrupted her litany, "stop making her head spin with all your motherly recommendations! I too know how to raise a child, I will tell her all this myself!"

"Oh no, please, not you too Papá!" a sweetly annoyed Leonor interjected.

In the blink of an eye it made the mood change drastically, and both parents burst into laughter.

Alejandro took Araceli's hand, bent over it, dropped a kiss on the back of it, then he straightened up and told her with a joyful smile.

"Don't worry, you know I will take good care of her, as well as keep a watchful eye on her, don't you?"

"I do of course, Alejandro. Of course I already know that. But I am a parent, I can't help worrying!"

They laughed again, and Leonor suddenly felt rather huffy at the fact that, as she confusedly sensed, they were having fun at her expense. She folded her arms, scowled, looked down at the ground and let out:

"That's not funny."

Alejandro turned to her, picked her up in his arms – in a few years, he thought, he won't be able to do that anymore – and gently but happily told her:

"Oh but we were not making fun of you, mi cariño, we were merely making fun of ourselves..."

And he lovingly kissed her cheek. Araceli then joyfully did the same, but she became serious again when she remembered that in a few minutes she would leave and be separated from her baby girl again.

Leonor, for her part, was puzzled: why making fun of oneself? What was the point? And how could it be funny? For her part, Leonor hated when people were making fun of her... and yet grown-ups like her parents liked laughing at their own expense? Weird. Grown-ups really were very peculiar persons.

But she soon forgot it and kissed her mother's cheek: she knew that they would soon be reunited at home in San Diego and that they would not stay apart for too long, but Leonor didn't have to like that. Thankfully the prospect of staying longer with her papá balanced her displeasure at seeing her mamá go. With her papá... and with her big brother too! Granted he wasn't the best horseman or swordsman in the world, but for the rest he was simply wonderful: he could play music, draw and teach her painting, play chess, carry her on his very high shoulders, tell bedtime stories, make Indian remedies, and even explain magic tricks! Leonor was convinced that she had the best big brother in the world... even when he was scolding her a bit after she did some mischief.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Felipe was watching the scene from afar, as Doña Araceli was bidding farewell to her daughter and to Don Alejandro. The stagecoach would be leaving in a few minutes, and he saw Don Rodrigo Guzmán approach the carriage and lift his travel bag to the roof rack.

"You're leaving our pueblo too, Don Rodrigo?" Diego asked him.

"I am, although the hospitality here was most pleasant. As well as some of the inhabitants' help," the man said with a nod at Diego and another at his father. "Thank you again," he added mezzo voce, "I will never forget that. But the business I had to see to here is over, at least for the moment. I will certainly come back here later, for my utmost pleasure, but right now I have other towns to visit and other potential business partners or future customers to meet with. San Juan Capistrano will be my first stop-off on my way back home. And a few days later... perhaps San Diego?" he added, turning to Doña Araceli.

Felipe noticed that Diego looked rather pleased at these words. Felipe was no fool: he had already noticed how eager Diego was to see Señor Guzmán and Doña Araceli get closer, but he wasn’t sure he totally shared his expectations, or his wariness toward Leonor's mother. And what about the little girl's opinion on Don Rodrigo's probable visit to her mother? In all likelihood the child wasn't seeing anything about this all, beyond her little world. After all, what did seven-years-olds understand to these matters? But all in all, Felipe had come to like Doña Araceli, to like both mother and child in fact, and to like the effects their presence had on Don Alejandro.

Now Felipe's thoughts drifted to Diego. He had been keeping a discreet eye on him these past days, and it didn't escape his notice that just the day before Diego had spent the whole siesta time at Victoria's... And yet he had sworn to him that their secret trysts were over! And why on earth did Victoria accept the situation if she didn't want to be open about it, or if he didn't want to openly woo her? If she wasn't attracted to Diego, why on earth was she sleeping with him then? And if she was, why not letting him court her, or ask him to do so?

That was beyond Felipe's comprehension. The honed spy in him wanted to investigate this case, but for once he was at a loss as to how to do this: he couldn't just bluntly go to Victoria and ask her the question! He was confusedly sensing that he would have had a better chance of her ever confiding in him about such matters if he'd been a woman. A woman she was feeling rather at ease with. And even in this case, the probability of her giving away Diego's misdemeanour was very thin.

A woman she'd come to feel comfortable with... Felipe's eyes drifted to Doña Araceli. Certainly _she_ wouldn’t feel shocked at the revelation of Victoria's recent... behaviour, _liberated_ as she was herself. And come to think of that... could there be some connection between this woman's arrival in their lives and Victoria's recent unexpected change of standards?

If so, Felipe reflected, Diego shouldn't resent Señora Valdez too much. Quite the contrary! And talking about the devil... or rather the fox... He looked back at his friend: Diego told him earlier that his affair with Victoria was over, and yet he stayed behind in the tavern at siesta time... The signal was most unclear to Felipe. Was it possible that Diego had been lying to him about the supposed end to this relationship?

Due to his dangerous secret activity, Diego had spent the past years telling lies to everyone around, even to his beloved ones. Could it be that lie after lie, invention after fabrication, he finally began to lose touch with reality? Did the line between truth and lies become so blurry to him? Could he still tell fact from fiction, distinguish between reality and fantasy? Perhaps after several years walking the thin line between his public facade and Zorro's secrets, he was now living in some grey area between the two. A mix of both fantasy and reality... If so, that could become dangerous: after all, he was risking his head in this endless fight against injustice!

Felipe thought back about Elvira Duarte's perceptiveness. It was most unwise of Diego to go visit Victoria by daytime when anyone could notice that he did come in but did _not_ come out with the rest of the tavern's patrons... especially now that he had been warned of Señorita Duarte's discreet but acute sagacity! Really, what had Diego been thinking of? Well, if ever at the time he had been thinking at all...

But whatever: Felipe simply felt hurt that after Don Alejandro, Diego lied to him. For months. If he didn't trust him, If they couldn't trust each other anymore, what would now be Felipe's anchor in this life, in this world?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Leonor was holding her mother's hand, making the most of the last minutes of her mamá's presence before two weeks.

"You know you don't _have_ to leave now," Papá was telling Mamá. "You can stay as long as you wish, my home will be yours for the duration of your stay.

"Thank you Alejandro, you are the most pleasant host and I assure you I enjoy your company as well as all your household's hospitality. But I have things to tend to back home. Sometimes business doesn't wait, or at least cannot wait too long. You may have a rancho to run, but I too have work to do and a business company to run. Well, only _part_ of a business company in truth, but still! Father would spank me if I let business go to the dogs to gallivant for my sole enjoyment to the detriment of hard work..."

Leonor giggled: Abuelo was the nicest man in the world in her opinion – well, on par with Papá of course, although just like him he sometimes told her off when she misbehaved – who wouldn't hurt a fly, and the idea of a grown-up being spanked like a mischievous child was utterly ridiculous!

"I have also received at letter about some problems with grain deliveries," Mamá added, "and I have a scheduled meeting next week with a customer who has cash-flow problems, we will arrange a way for him to pay by instalments. I can't stay longer, although I would enjoy it very much."

"Los Angeles's loss, then," Papá replied with a kind smile.

"You are most gracious, Alejandro," Mamá told him with a smile of her own.

Leonor didn't understand what was especially gracious in that, but half the time she didn't understand what grown-ups said anyway.

Papá kissed Mamá's hand and he helped her get in the stagecoach.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

The coach driver gave his horses the signal and the carriage set off. Felipe saw Don Alejandro stare at it and keep his eyes on it as it was crossing the pueblo's gate, and then beyond. He also saw Don Carlos Ocaña approach him, and only his well-trained and supposedly deaf ears caught what his patrón's old friend then told him, as Don Alejandro's eyes were still fixed on the stagecoach:

"If I were you, my dear friend, I would jump on a horse, ride after this stagecoach and catch up with her..."

Finally fully realising the hidden meaning of the friendly caballero's words, Felipe felt a tug at his heartstrings for his beloved patrón. And he also felt a bit sheepish that he, Felipe, who liked to think that he knew anyone's secrets – especially those of the people who were the closest to him – didn't notice the extent of Don Alejandro's true feelings while a mere acquaintance like Don Carlos did...

Don Alejandro kept his eyes glued to the tiny spot that was the stagecoach now and, in a calm and very quiet voice, he replied:

"If you were me, my friend, you'd be almost sixty. And acutely aware of it how old it is..."

He had a poor but beautiful smile, then he finally turned to his daughter whose hand he had been holding all this time and gently led her to Victoria's tavern.


	113. Ch 113 - In for a pound

"Papá! Is Abuelo really going to spank Mamá...?"

Alejandro was sipping his drink and when he heard his daughter's ingenuous question he choked on his wine, unwillingly spitting out a few droplets of it.

The tavern's closest patrons heard it too, and turned curious or shocked gazes toward them.

Leonor seemed truly concerned for her mother though, so after he dabbed at his lips with a white batiste handkerchief, Alejandro wanted to allay her worries and set her mind at rest:

"No, mi cariño. No, she was just kidding. She only meant that your grandfather wouldn't be too happy with her if she neglected her duties toward his firm, and stayed idle for too long. You know, it is not good to remain idle in the long run, people have to work hard and be serious about what they do."

"Just like you, Papá?"

"Yes, and just like you with your lessons, even those you don't like..."

"Oh no, don't tell me to practice my scales again! I hate it!"

"And yet you like music! Don't you want to be able to play like Diego? But it won't come to you just like that, you have to work hard and persevere!"

Leonor pulled a face.

"And Mamá too works hard!" Alejandro pointed out. "She buys and resells things from here to Europe, and the other way round."

"Like Abuelo and Tio Gaspar, I know..."

"Exactly. As I just told you, everyone has to work hard in life."

"But no Papá, not everyone: Tia Faustina doesn't do anything, and neither does Tia Almudena. Or Diego, come to think of that."

 _Ouch_ , Leonor had a knack for unwillingly touching raw nerves... And from her spot-on remark about Diego, Alejandro's mind wandered to the one she made about her grandfather, Araceli's father... Well, he wouldn't spank his grown-up daughter of course, but there were principles that were important to Don Melchior Ximénez, and Alejandro remembered a time when he wasn't so sure the man wouldn't lay into _him_ , physically speaking...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Alejandro was riding Dulcinea at a sedate pace as he finally reached the outskirts of San Diego, not in too much a hurry to get there, for once. Not that he didn't miss Araceli or didn't want to check on her, especially in her current 'interesting' condition, but... he wasn't looking forward to what awaited him once he steps foot under her roof. With a pang of apprehension uncomfortably churning his guts, he thought back about the letter he received from her a week earlier and its words and sentences resounded inside his skull like he was hearing these come right out of her mouth:_

"... and my parents wrote back that they rejoice for me, even though they do worry a bit like with any of their daughter's pregnancies. My mother sent me a thousand recommendations as to what to do and not do to avoid complications, as though I didn't already know all of these. She even already sent advices about the childbirth itself, about how make it the safest possible, although it won't happen before months and months from now on! Can you believe that? Ah... parents will always be parents, I guess...

By the way, they would like to meet you. I told them to come to San Diego around the time scheduled for your next stay here, so that the three of you can get acquainted. They should arrive a few days before you do, if nothing crops up."

_Ow... Alejandro really wasn’t looking forward to this. To this meeting. To this conversation. No doubt Don Melchior and his wife weren't too happy with him. The señora would certainly tell him all the resentment and contempt she had for his disgraceful and despicable behaviour as well as for burdening her daughter with a child, and Señor Ximénez... Well Alejandro would rather really not think about the man's probable reaction. But he'd certainly be furious at him. Absolutely mad... and not without reason, Alejandro admitted to himself. If he were in this man's position... if he had had a daughter and then another man dared..._

_He frowned, his guts churning once more rather sourly. But then he couldn't help a smile: well, perhaps he_ would _finally have a daughter in a few months' time, after all... He'd like that; a baby girl... But a son would do just as well. Boy, girl, it didn't matter in the end, as long as he or she was healthy... and Araceli too of course!_

_But if he were to have a daughter, woe betide the man who'd dare... well, who'd dare act with her just like himself was acting with Araceli, he reflected with a mix of outraged straight-lacedness and sheepish self-clemency._

_Yes, but Araceli was no childish and impressionable sixteen or twenty years-old girl, he protested inwardly, but a full grown-up woman who knew her own mind. And how!_

_Still, Melchior Ximénez would certainly not be as lenient as Alejandro was to himself. Not for the first time, he wondered whether Araceli's father would go as far as to challenge him to duel. And if so, would he settle for the first blood drawn, or...?_

_Alejandro shuddered. No. No, things wouldn't go that far, right? ...Right? But Señor Ximénez would certainly lash out at him, perhaps even come to blows and manhandle him. Alejandro sighed: what a mess! He remembered the account Concepcion had given him of Araceli's break-up with Cesar Villegas, her former lover. Firstly, Araceli hated violence. And secondly..._

_Secondly, between her family and her lover, she would always choose her family. If things turned that bad and nasty between him and her father, no matter what her father did or said she would break up with Alejandro immediately if ever he forgot himself to the point of daring lay a hand on Señor Ximénez. Even if only to retaliate and return a blow. Alejandro was sure of that. Admittedly she'd be very cross at her father too but, well... he was her father after all! You just don't break up with your father, he is your father forever and you cannot stop him from still being your father. But on the other hand you could very well break up with a lover and call an end to your relationship with him._

_Yes, thorny matter. He let out a heavy sigh and braced himself for the onslaught to come, making the silent promise to keep his calm, inwardly swearing that this time he wouldn't let his damn temper get the better of him and of his good resolutions. And hoping against hope that it wouldn't be a drunkard's promise._

_He prayed the Lord that He assists him in the confrontation to come, and noticed that he had finally reached Araceli's house. Well_ , when you've made your bed, you must lie in it. In for a centavo, in for a peso. Once you've put your hand to the plough, there's no turning back. _Alejandro recited adage after adage, but in the end he still had yet to knock on the door._

_He would take anything her parents had in store for him, he decided. With humility, humbleness and repentance. He would accept it without a protest, even though he knew they would haul him over the coals: he would do the same, were he in their shoes. Yes, they were going to give him hell for making their daughter his mistress and getting her with child. Did Araceli at least tell them that he proposed, that he was willing to right his wrongs? And that she refused?_

_And that was somehow the heart of another problem: their child was almost all Alejandro had been thinking about for days, bar his apprehension at meeting Araceli's parents. They were not married... which meant that as long as he didn't officially acknowledge the child as his offspring he wouldn't have any right on his son or daughter, wouldn't even be considered the child's father in the eye of the law. If for some reason Araceli changed her mind before the birth and decided... to estrange him, to ban him from her life and from her house like she did when she fell out with Cesar Villegas, then he would lose his child; perhaps even never see the baby, never know whether it was a boy or a girl... No, that couldn't happen. He'd rather take any insult Señor Ximénez would hurl at him, any punch or thrashing he would throw at him. That way he hoped Araceli would side with him: she hated violence, and she hated the idea that anyone would feel overprotective of her, that anyone but herself could decide about her life or judge it, have a say about it, supervise it._

_This was just as good a strategy as any to get her to side with him, although a rather unusual and slightly underhand one, he admitted. But sometimes, in very few circumstances like this one, the end justified the means. Even in Alejandro de la Vega's upright mind..._

_Gathering his courage he dismounted, tied Dulcinea to a fence, walked through the garden to the door, slowly raised his right hand... and finally knocked on the wooden panel he had come to know so well._


	114. Ch 114 - A bath, a suit and sore spots

_Araceli finally disentangled herself from Alejandro's embrace in the middle if her sala._

_"Aníbal will lead you to your bedroom. You must be raddled after this long ride, as usual."_

_"And I need a bath, that's what you mean?"_

_"I didn't mean it that way but, now that you bring up the subject..."_

_She didn't finish her sentence but smiled teasingly._

_"I know, I know... a bath will indeed be most welcome: a two day's ride in the Californian summer is no bed of roses... and doesn't smell like it either!"_

_She laughed at his pun and called Aníbal, her young Indian indenture servant boy._

_"Aníbal, niño, will you show Don Alejandro to his room, please? And run a bath for him. After that go to the kitchen, I am sure there is an orange left for you there..."_

_And she winked at the boy._

_"Oh, si, gracias Señora!"_

_They laughed at the boy's eagerness and Alejandro followed the young servant with a smile. Araceli was good with children, she'd be a good mother, he didn't doubt it._

_He also let out a deep sigh of relief: her parents were not home but had gone on some courtesy call in the town for a few hours, so it gained him some time before the dreaded meeting with them. It only delayed the inevitable but Alejandro first welcomed the reprieve, then took it as taking a step back only to take a bigger jump forward: it would give him time to bathe, rest and put on clean clothes for the meeting. Because right now, smelling like horse and sweat and covered in dust, he certainly wouldn't put his best foot forward... and it was suddenly absolutely crucial for him to make a good impression on Araceli's parents, his unborn child's grandparents._

_While Aníbal was running his bath, Alejandro unpacked his very light travelling bag: a razor, two shirts, a nightshirt and two suits. Among which his best one, the one he had donned one month earlier to ask for Araceli's hand._

_That's precisely this suit that he carefully laid on his bed with the intention of putting it on after his bath. His richest and most elegant one, with gold thread embroideries. And of course it was not random: Alejandro wanted to look imposing in the Ximénezes' eyes, and despite the vanity and conceit of it he thought that a reminder and conspicuous evidence of his wealth and social status would help him appear in a favourable light and influence their first impression of him, thus influencing their opinion on him. Hopefully. And putting on his best suit was also a way to honour them as well as Araceli._

_He repeated his arguments over and over in his mind but try as he might, he felt barely reassured by these. The more time was passing, the more Alejandro was getting nervous. And the nice warm bath didn't alleviate most of his dread._

_He sighed. If meeting these two perfect strangers and discussing the unborn child with them was putting him in such a state, what would it be the day he finally has to tell Diego about it all?_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"You're still tense," Araceli murmured from her position behind Alejandro, with her arms encircling him, her hands clasped over his stomach, her face buried in his hair, her forehead resting against the back of his head and her nose pressed against his skull. "I thought the bath would have soothed you and done you some good... But there are still knots in your shoulders, I can feel it."_

_She dropped a gentle and long kiss on his right shoulder through the layers of fabric and then affectionately ran her hands along his arms. She had just come to check on him after his bath and to ask whether he needed anything. They were standing in the middle of his bedroom and were simply revelling in the peace and quiet of the afternoon before her parents got back home and finally met their daughter's 'seducer'.._

_"The bath did me good..." Alejandro replied. "I assure you."_

_"So...? Why the frown?" she asked in a sweet and genuinely concerned voice._

_"How could you know whether I'm frowning or not? You are standing behind me!"_

_"Perhaps I have magical powers..." she suggested. "You know, the kind of powers that make me able to know how people are feeling, although I can't of course read minds."_

_Alejandro silently raised an eyebrow._ A sixth sense? _He never really believed in these things before, but..._

_"Or perhaps there is a mirrored wardrobe in front of us," Araceli went on with an amused note in her voice, "on the other side of the bed!"_

_Ah, yes, that explained everything of course! And to think that for a split second he almost believed... Silly! He forced a smile on his lips._

_"You almost got me there," he admitted._

_Alejandro twisted his neck to the right side and kissed the tip of Araceli's nose, before he looked back ahead of him, serious again._

_He finally let out a heavy sigh._

_"I can't believe you didn't tell them how old I am!"_

_It was her turn to raise an eyebrow._

_"So what?" she dismissively said, shrugging. "It is simply irrelevant."_

_He pulled a face._

_"It's not. And deep down you know that. Stop beating around the bush and just admit that you are ashamed of me..."_

_He looked intently in her eyes, or rather right in their reflection in the mirror, to mean that he was dead serious, that he wasn't afraid of stating things and that he expected her to be as direct and honest with him as he was being with her, but with some surprise he saw that her shock and astonishment at his blunt statement looked genuine._

_Then the look on her face turned from surprised to indignant._

_"So that's what you think?" she whispered. "Nothing could be more wrong," she added after a pause, releasing her embrace of him to fold her arms, looking almost like a sulking child._

_"Oh, please, no, not you!" Alejandro said, turning to face her. "Don't give me the 'I don't see your age' reply! You are so much more straightforward, usually."_

_And now he was almost disappointed in her attitude, so different from what Araceli had gotten him used to coming from her!_

_"Did I say such a thing?" she rhetorically asked. "No. I_ do _see your age. I see your grizzled hair, I see your wrinkles, I even see your nascent paunch and your withered skin."_

Ouch _. Well, he had told her to be direct and honest after all, he couldn't now complain that she was being blunt! Be careful what you wish for... Still, this inventory of the first signs of his physical decay hurt a bit._

 _"So yes," she went on, "I see your crow's-feet and your grey temples, I don't deny these, and they are not the reason why I'm attracted to you either: I don't have some older man fetish, I assure you. I am attracted to_ you _, not to your age. But I am not deterred or discouraged by it either. And certainly_ not _ashamed."_

_"And yet you 'forgot' to inform your parents of this slight detail," he pointed out._

_"Yes I did. Can't you simply understand that it is not that important to me? Simply irrelevant?"_

_"Don't dismiss our age gap so casually. It_ is _important. And it will especially be to our child."_

 _Alejandro dejectedly plumped down on the bed in a sitting position, which made his face get on level with Araceli's stomach._ Still flat _, he inwardly remarked. He raised a hesitant hand to it but stopped his move before he touched it._

_"You'll have to forgive me little one," he softly murmured to his unborn child, "because everyone will mistake me for your grandfather..."_

_Araceli melted and she gently took Alejandro's hand to slowly raise it to her lips and drop featherlike kisses on the tip of his fingers._

_"That's all right, Alejandro: we will teach him or her not to pay too much attention to strangers' opinion, that's all..."_

_"That's your answer to everything, isn't it?" he replied, getting to his feet. "Stating that people who think differently than you do are erring, that other people's opinion is of little importance, always dismissing any objection related to this matter, uh? Well, I have bad news for you: whether it's fair or not, that's not how the world works. You are a very honed businesswoman, for God's sake, I know you are not that naive: you very well know how societies work! Stop thinking the world is just as you'd like it to be; grow up, Araceli, and come back down to earth: it is time you start thinking your personal life the same way you are thinking your professional one!"_

_He hadn't paid attention to it, but his voice had raised in intensity as he'd been giving her this tirade, and this combined with a certain truth – that she didn't want to acknowledge – behind his arguments got her rather peeved too, so she retorted rather hotly:_

_"Well, if I had followed this advice and done what you just suggested I do, you wouldn't be here in the first place, and in fact you would never have had any reason to stay here. And come to think of that, perhaps I should kick you out and ask you to go rent a room at the tavern, Señor, for the sake of both our reputations: just think, a_ man _, a lone male caballero staying under a lone widow's roof, what will people think of that!" she said, playing the part of the sanctimonious duenna._

_Alejandro too grew irritated by her comeback, so of course instead of wisely trying to calm things down he heard himself stupidly retort:_

_"Well, I could even go back to Los Angeles if you ask me to, after all!"_

_He saw the hurt on her face behind the anger, but despite this he didn't really feel bad, thinking he had won the argument and had the last word in it. Which meant that he was certainly not expecting her next sentence:_

_"Do as you wish," she spat back at him in an icy-cold tone of voice. "My guestroom, the tavern or Los Angeles, you are entirely free to decide, Señor."_

_And without another word she turned in a whirl of silky lilac flouncy skirts and got out of his bedroom._


	115. Ch 115 - The Threshold

_Alejandro was standing in the middle of the guestroom, rooted to the spot. It had started all nice and cuddly and bantery... how could it turn out so awry?_

_Well, this was Araceli's entire fault, he thought back. Her damn temper.... her stubborn bullheadedness at never doing things seemly and properly in her personal life... her obstinate insistence on never doing things the socially accepted way... her misplaced pride..._

_Really, and contrary to what he had been thinking in the beginnings, an affair with her was no bed of roses, there were many bumps on the road. Not for the first time, Alejandro wondered why on earth he was persisting in this casual fling, and a long-distance one at that!_

_But come to think of that... did she... or didn't she just.... did she just break up with him?_

_Did she or didn't she?_

_Did her last sentence notify him of their split?_

Well, all the better, _he grumbled inwardly. He really could do without her rather complicated personality, and her fierce independence was always making him wonder whether what he was about to say or do wouldn't be misinterpreted. Like when he proposed marriage to her for instance. Good thing she turned him down! He had a close shave, that day!_

_Yes, half the time he didn't understand her reactions to things that most people considered absolutely normal. But, a little voice was saying inside his mind, would he have felt half as attracted to her if she'd been 'absolutely normal'? Just the regular woman?_

Whatever _, he decided. He really could do without the mood swings._

_...'Mood swings'...?!!_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Although she had just spoken vey coldly and closed the guestroom door calmly, Araceli was inwardly fuming and boiling. How dared he?!! And just when her parents had travelled across half Baja California to meet him! The very day she was to introduce them to each other!_

_He wanted to leave and to go back to Los Angeles? Fine. Anyway, moody as he was today, he would just snap at her parents and make an awful impression on them, the polar opposite of the sweet, caring and gracious man he could be, the one she had been attracted to for the past year. But this was probably ancient story now. Well, it was sad of course but it was still better than having Papá and Mamá think she had made a child with a perfect uncouth boor, that she was having a relationship with just some grumpy old man...and one who wanted to decide of her life, at that!_

_And before that, to think that he accused her of being ashamed of him and of their relationship, while she had written to her parents about her pregnancy, about her lover, and just as she was about to introduce him to them?! That was rich, coming from someone who still hadn't written the first word about it all to his son! So much hypocrisy..._

_After a minute of pacing up and down and inwardly fulminating against Alejandro she finally reached the end of the corridor. She had been looking eagerly forward to introduce him to her parents, and reciprocally; but he was all grouchy and bad-tempered today. He was about to meet the two most important persons in her life, and he was being difficult! His hot-blooded temper and the holier-than-thou attitude that sometimes showed up in him always got on her nerves, as well as his outdated principles and his ridiculous self-righteous scruples – that always conveniently came rather late, in fact._

_But despite these annoying traits of his behaviour and personality she had to admit that she liked him and enjoyed his stays under her roof. Just like she was physically attracted to him despite his age and the effects of it on his looks. Yes, she liked him, and he wasn't that bad after all, perhaps just made a bit edgy by the fatigue of the ride and the summer heat._

_And she didn't want him to go._

_She stopped right on the sala's threshold and let out a sigh._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Alejandro was irritated and annoyed at Araceli: really, she was being impossible!_

_But then he remembered his own earlier resolutions: on the road to San Diego he had made himself the promise to avoid quarrelling with Araceli, for fear that they would fall out... and that he lost touch with her and thus with his child!_

_Keeping calm, not letting his temper get the better of him, not arguing with Araceli... well, that had turned out to be quite a fiasco! But the child... his child... their child..._

_He frowned: was_ that _what these much talked-about mood swings were? Diego's mother didn't have these when she had been expecting – well as far as he knew, but truth be told he hadn't been much present at the time: not even there when his son was born, he only arrived days later! He searched his mind for both his father's and his father-in-law's pieces of advice when faced with an unexpectedly moody pregnant wife: what did they tell him, already? Oh, yes:_ let it wash over you, lie low and wait for better times, son.

_Araceli and him wouldn't really... fall out, right? After all, he was no Cesar Villegas, he didn't hit her brother! She couldn't... she wouldn't..._

_On the other hand, it would make his life much simpler: having to walk on eggshells around Araceli to avoid hurting her sometimes incomprehensible susceptibility was a bit tiring, and riding here every month was getting rather exhausting too. And for God's sake, he was right and she was wrong, period. This woman was really getting on his nerves, why couldn't he seem to be able to resist his attraction to her and to her company, despite her strange personality?_

_...Or was it precisely_ because _of it...?_

_He frowned, and that's when he heard the soft click of his door being pushed open._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Araceli opened the door to Alejandro's bedroom but dared not really enter it. She took a small step forward that put her right at the same level as the framework, but she didn't totally cross the threshold. From her spot there, half-in half-out but not clearly any of these two possibilities, she raised a rather uncertain look on him. He barely dared look back and fought a violent need to avert his eyes, feeling very awkward after what had just been said on both part, and after the tone of voice it had been said in, but let it not be said that Alejandro de la Vega shies away from confrontation!_

_So although he too was very unsure how to react to her presence and feeling both slightly peeved at her as well as more than a bit ill-at-ease, he didn't stare either down or away but kept his eyes on her, all the while wishing he were miles away from there. Perhaps in Los Angeles. But did he really want to go back to Los Angeles now?_ Not really _, he had to admit. It would be putting a full stop to their relationship, period and end. Did he want that? Perhaps, yes: less complications, more propriety. But the child...? But never seeing Araceli again...? No, he didn't really want that, all things considered._

_Yet he didn't make one move toward her, didn't take one step forward; he was still awkwardly staring at her, conflicted between his annoyance at her, his attraction to her, his fear of losing his child and his damn pride that forbade him to make the first move to reconciliation._

_That is when she slowly opened her mouth and, although at first no sound came out of it, he finally heard a soft, weak and rather husky:_

_"...Stay..."_

_Her gaze, looking unsure and expectant, settled on his face and she didn't utter anything else, but he remembered too late how these eyes of hers were usually dangerous for his resolve._ Resolve _, really? He finally admitted to himself that he had never really wanted to leave and go back home, despite his heated retort, not even for a split second. That he hadn't seriously considered it, that he hadn't meant what he had said. That once again his bloody pride led him around by the nose._

_And perhaps also – to finally be honest with himself – that he let his fears of her parents' reaction get the better of him and suggest to him the cowardly way: running away._

_And Araceli was still standing there, in the doorway, patiently but apprehensively watching for any sign from him, for a reaction, waiting for his answer._

_Of course he didn't really want to go. Of course he'd stay. But he still couldn't get himself to voice it. So with his eyes glued to hers, like captivated by them, he slowly nodded._

_Her features immediately relaxed and she finally allowed herself inside, crossing the doorsill and leaving it open. But none of them talked, probably for lack of finding anything to say. Each of the two still thought that he or she had been right and that the other had been wrong in the previous argument. None of the two therefore thought about apologising to the other. But the air was definitely lighter if not entirely cleared._

_She walked to the window and looked outside._

_"They are still not back yet," Araceli softly commented when she turned back to face Alejandro. "Mamá told me they should be home by the end of the afternoon, nothing more precise. After all we couldn't really know when exactly you'd arrive in San Diego. Sometime between this morning and tomorrow morning, I told them."_

_He still didn't utter one word and simply nodded._

_"I thought I just saw something move in the garden, but no, I have been mistaken. I hope you are not feeling offended that they were not home to greet you, I assure you there was no intention of discourtesy whatsoever in their–"_

_"No," he interrupted her, "no, no offense taken, I assure you. In fact it gave me time enough to make myself presentable," he added a bit stiffly._

_Of course for no love or money would he admit the real reason why he welcomed the delay, admit that he was rather taking it as a respite._

_She gave him a terse nod and took it as her cue to leave. But just as she was passing by him on her way out he thought that he too should show her that he wasn't cross with her and didn't want to be. She made the first step by coming back here and asking him to stay, he could make the second one after all! But as far as expressing his feelings and emotions were concerned, Alejandro de la Vega was a man of few words. He was rather the kind of man who let his actions speak for him. So for lack of anything to say, when she brushed past him he obeyed his impulse and grabbed her hand with his. Awkwardly but resolutely so, unsure but with much goodwill._

_She stopped in her track at his unexpected gesture. His hand in hers and around her fingers was feeling warm. She looked down at it, and then raised her gaze up to his eyes. She didn't like being cross with him either. She closed her eyes and her features immediately relaxed. She even slightly smiled at him when she opened her eyes again. They stayed like that unmoving, facing each other, hand in hand, eyes in eyes for several seconds._

_Then she took a closer step to him, closed her eyes again and freed her hand from his only to wrap her arms around his waist and hug him gently, nesting her chin in the crook of his neck. Alejandro felt relieved at her reaction and all the tension left him, left his shoulders, left his features, left his neck and his back and his arms. It felt good, having Araceli pressed against him, encircling him, feeling her breath against the shorter hair there, right above the nape of his neck..._

_He too finally wrapped his arms around her, then he slowly moved them up her back and cradled the back of her head with his hands, burying his fingers in her thick and dark strands of hair. He was feeling so good, right there and then! He let out a content sigh and revelled in her embrace._

_After some time – had it been a few seconds, a whole minute or even longer? – of staying still and unmoving in each other's arms, Alejandro felt the need to further confirm their reconciliation: after all, it was now a sure thing to both of them that they weren't angry at each other anymore and wouldn't turn a cold shoulder on each other, but in the end did she or did she not put an end to their... to the... 'privileged nature' of their relationship? Had she decided that they would revert to being mere friends and business acquaintances?_

_But he really, really didn't know how to ask the question. In his youth he had been taught how to properly court a woman, how to ask a lady for her hand in marriage, how to ask it to her father too... but asking your mistress whether or not the relationship you are having with her is to go on in the same intimate nature as it had been until then, or if on the contrary she intends to call an end to it, wasn't really part of the proper caballero's etiquette his upbringing had taught him._

_He was also rather ill-at-ease with the idea of being subjected to a woman's decision in that matter. Normally, a woman had her say when she received a marriage proposal: either she accepted it or turned it down. And still according to the proper order of things, a few months later, once both were married and shared a bed, and even more so if a child was conceived out of it, there was no way out for either of the two: whatever still happened or not in the marriage-bed, there was no going back, no way out, no end to the marriage. Except the death of either of the two. None of the parts could call an end to the married bound, even calling an end to the marital duty didn't end the relationship itself._

_But in this case, everything was different. Araceli – or Alejandro himself – could decree that their relationship was over, and just like that, from one day to the next, from one minute to the next, you just ceased to be lovers. To then become_ what _, to each other? What, exactly? It was unsettling Alejandro greatly; and he didn't like feeling unsettled. But with Araceli it seemed that all the formerly well-defined lines he had previously seen as boundaries between what were the done things and the rest, the very clear and well-defined boundaries he had always used as guidelines to make his private life simpler, became suddenly shifting and blurry. Not lines anymore, but a whole uncertainly delimited zone, and even after six months he was still having a hard time knowing what was her manner of thinking, and where did_ her _boundaries lie._

_Alejandro de la Vega liked what was clear and well-delimited, as far as propriety was concerned. Although he wasn't necessarily a complete stickler for absolutely doing things the right way, he had never intended to break the mould like Araceli was used to do. To him, boundaries were a bit reassuring, he had always seen these lines as guidelines to keep one's life in the right direction and keep it on track, even though unlike some others he didn't necessarily considered these as absolute lifelines._

_But then meeting Araceli – and more recently having this unusual relationship with her – had shaken up his certainties in the matter, played havoc with his convictions, rattled his beliefs. She had rocked the boat of his formerly well-defined boundaries._

_And although he knew he should, he couldn't get himself to totally regret that._

_And after all, they weren't doing any harm to anyone: they were both widowed, for God's sake! None of them had to answer to anyone as far as their private lives were concerned, now. They weren't betraying anyone, weren't cheating on anyone, weren't ridiculing anyone, weren't offending anyone. Alejandro felt relieved at the thought that he hadn't known her – in both the usual and the 'biblical' sense of the verb – when her husband had still been alive: granted the two spouses were separated and Araceli had apparently already been living her private life just as freely as now that she was widowed, but still... to Alejandro it wouldn't have been the same. At all. What if her husband had still been alive that night when his lips melted against hers for the first time in her garden at dusk...?_

_It wouldn't have happened, Alejandro thought with some self-righteousness: he would have probably rather run away._

Ow, yes, _he remembered: he_ had _run away! And yet now he was there, in her arms, with their child cosily nestled inside her and so close to his own stomach! Time should stop right then. He smiled._

_But back to the matter at hand: how could he make sure Araceli didn't decide to take their relationship back to what it had been before this first kiss? How could he voice his question with tact?_

_Alejandro was definitely more a man of action than a man of words: so once again, for lack of finding anything to say he chose to act: he pulled back very slightly, looked her right in her eyes and slowly, very very lowly he leaned in, clearly aiming for her lips. He remembered their second kiss, when she let him plenty of time to step back from it, from her, to refuse it, to let her know whether he was agreeing to it or not._

_She didn't step back. She didn't release her embrace, didn't free herself from his arms, didn't refuse the kiss. And even, she welcomed it. Sweetly. Warmly. When his lips finally brushed hers, he felt a jolt of joy fuzzily tickle his stomach, and when their tongues melted against each other he forgot all his earlier doubts. And not for the first time he thought that propriety was far overrated, after all!_

_With both her hands pressed against his back, one in the small of it and the other between his shoulder blades, he was feeling incredibly wonderful. Still kissing her he smiled against her lips, let the fingers of his right hand bury themselves again in the black strands of her hair, and spread his left hand over the middle of her back._

_After what was perhaps a split second, perhaps an eternity of gently but thoroughly kissing each other, they finally pulled back. Once he opened his eyes again on their surroundings Alejandro spotted something behind Araceli. And when his gaze focused, his eyes grew wide with surprise and horror as he tensed from head to toe and gaped at what he was seeing._

_But all in all the look on his face was only mirroring the one of the middle-aged lady standing in the doorway. A woman who bore some unmistakable resemblance with Araceli. Right beside her was a man roughly his age looking at him with shock written all over his face._

_An icy-cold but lead-heavy liquid-like something immediately spread inside him. Of all the various ways Alejandro had envisioned his much-dreaded very first meeting with Araceli's parents and the first impression he would make on them, even the worst case scenario his imagination had managed to come up with didn't imply the Ximénezes stumbling upon him shamelessly snogging their daughter in a bedroom!_


	116. Ch 116 - On the hotseat

_After a split second of stunned stupor, Alejandro abruptly released Araceli like he had burned himself just through contact with her and he hurriedly took a step back from her._

_"Araceli..." the woman finally managed to let out in a strangled whisper, "w-who is this man...?"_

_Alejandro wished the ground would open and swallow him up entirely. He averted his eyes from the couple and settled his look on Araceli for her to make the introductions. But she wasn't looking at him anymore, she had turned to her parents who were standing in the doorway._

_"Well, Mamá, isn't it obvious?" she simply answered rather casually and matter-of-factly._

_Paradoxically, Araceli's laid-back reaction at being caught 'red-handed' by her parents made Alejandro feel even more ill-at-ease: why on earth wasn't she rather hiding her face and eating humble pie to avoid irritating her parents even more than they probably already were? He was certain that this would come back on_ him _and bite him..._

_Señor Ximénez cleared his throat meaningfully and Araceli seemed to realise that this was indeed no way to talk to her mother, especially under these circumstances._

_"Well, Araceli," her father finally said, "now that your mouth is not... hampered anymore, perhaps you could make the introductions...?"_

_Alejandro blanched at the man's disturbingly calm tone of voice, as well as at his deadpan wording. He hadn't expected this and didn't know how to react to it. Past the initial stunned look on his face, the man was now behaving far too calmly in his opinion._

_Araceli, for her part, seemed to realise that her answer to her mother's question had been a bit cavalier and offhand, so she proceeded to more formal introductions:_

_"Papá, Mamá, please meet Don Alejandro de la Vega._ _Alejandro, may I introduce Doña Leocadia Morales de Ximénez and Don Melchior Ximénez, my parents..."_

_Alejandro tried to compose himself to look collected in their eyes, but inwardly a frenzied panic had seized him._

_"Doña Leocadia, Don Melchior, encantado," he managed to articulate without stammering._

_Señor Ximénez was still staring at him, disbelieving._

_"I thought..." he finally managed to say, "I thought... I had heard that the de la Vega heir was in his twenties..."_

Oh no, _Alejandro lamented inwardly,_ when they received Araceli's letter they vaguely deduced _– according to his surname –_ that she had been having an affair with the youngest de la Vega... with _Diego!_

_Oww! Oh dear Lord... What a mess!_

_"That... would be my son," he corrected the man's logical conjecture. "He is currently living in Spain and has never met Arace– your daughter. Not yet, I mean. His name is Diego."_

_Doña Leocadia's stunned face then fell into a look that showed that the situation finally dawned on her but also that she was having a hard time stomaching the news._

_"A son...!" she whispered in the same strangled voice as earlier. "A son your age..."_

_She closed her eyes for a split second, visibly doing her best to digest the news._

_Her husband took in a deep breath, then he told Alejandro:_

_"I had prepared a gently and nicely patronising speech for your benefit, punctuated with many 'young man' here and there to reinforce the paternalistic tone of it all; but now I guess that all these 'young man' and the paternalism would sound more than a bit ridiculous, wouldn't they?"_

_There was nothing to answer to this purely rhetorical question, so Alejandro said nothing._

_With a slight nod at both of them, Señor Ximénez added:_

_"Well, it is almost dinnertime. We'd better go get changed now that we're back. We'll make better acquaintance with Don Alejandro over dinner. But right now let's finally go to our bedroom for good and take off these dusty clothes..."_

_Again, he nodded at his daughter:_

_"Araceli..."_

_He did the same at Alejandro:_

_"Don Alejandro..."_

_And he took a step toward their bedroom at the end of the corridor. But his wife remained behind in the doorway, like rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on her daughter's unexpectedly 'mature' new beau._

_"Leocadia...! My dear...!" her husband called her. "Come, let Araceli go to her own bedroom and get changed too..."_

_And with some reluctance the woman finally tore herself from Alejandro's doorstep and from watching the unexpected couple he was forming with her daughter, and she slowly followed her husband._

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Hmm, dinner went better than I thought, _Alejandro reflected after Araceli had followed her mother to her bedroom for apparently yet another list of motherly recommendations about pregnancy that were none of the gentlemen's business in Doña Leocadia's opinion. Which therefore let the two men one-to-one in the sala where young Aníbal served them a few drops of Araceli's excellent Armagnac._

_"Ahh," Señor Ximénez said with a content sigh, "there is nothing like Gascony for producing these sorts of firewater..."_

_"Indeed, it is excellent," Alejandro politely agreed although he barely dared wet his lips with the amber beverage._

_Now that the ladies were gone and it was only the two of them left in the room, he was apprehensive of what Don Melchior had kept up his sleeve for the rapscallion who put his daughter in an 'interesting condition' out of any wedlock, for the vile seducer who took advantage of his little girl's trust and naivety, for the lecherous old man who corrupted his dear flesh and blood. Again, every muscle in Alejandro's back and arms went tense._

_And indeed, Don Melchior didn't beat around the bush:_

_"I must admit that I was a bit unsettled earlier when I first saw you, and I won't tell you tales either: I was not extremely pleased at first last month when I read the news about the child to be born."_

_He frowned a bit and took a deep breath in before letting out a sigh. Alejandro didn't dare say anything and was waiting for the sword of paternal justice to fall upon him, so he braced himself for the onslaught._

_"But all in all," Señor Ximénez went on, clearly enjoying drawing out the pleasure, "and on second thought, this child may be seen as a blessing in disguise..." he finally added._

_Alejandro raised a curious eyebrow but still didn't say anything._

_"What I mean is that my daughter will now probably remarry, at last!"_

_Too bad Alejandro had finally gotten himself to sip some Armagnac just for the sake of appearing to be doing something else than staying rooted to his armchair, because just as Don Melchior was ending this sentence the poor father-to-be choked on his drink and went into a fit of coughing._

_He blushed and started some embarrassed explanation:_

_"Well... uh... as a matter of fact... and of course that is the expected... uh... outcome... but in fact... we... uh... discussed... and... uh... of course I... but she..."_

_The rest of Alejandro's muddled explanation was lost in his awkward mumbles. Inwardly, he was berating himself:_ 'I've been a soldier, for God's sake! I've faced life and death situations without hesitating or batting an eye... How come I can't seem to be able to speak loud and clear in front of this man?'

_Don Melchior watched him with an eyebrow arched high up to his hairline but he didn't say one word and kept a poker face, visibly not in any hurry to come to poor Alejandro's help. He just stayed there still as a statue, scrutinising his reactions._

_Then Araceli's father finally closed his eyes, didn't totally succeed in suppressing a sigh as his facial features finally moved and his shoulders sagged._

_"I see..." he let out. "You did propose her marriage in reparation and in order to put things right, as should any caballero worthy of the name do in such a situation..."_

_Don Melchior paused and Alejandro didn't say anything but gave an almost imperceptible nod._

_"And let me guess..." he went on, "my pigheaded mule of a daughter turned it down and shunned the mere idea of marriage like it was the plague, didn't she?"_

_Alejandro was momentarily speechless so all he could do was staring at him with wide eyes and slowly nod his positive answer to the man's question. Or rather to his guess._

_Don Melchior looked annoyed and irritated; he frowned and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. Then sighed._

_"I suppose that if even_ this _cannot decide her to take the plunge again, then nothing ever will..." he murmured, probably more to himself than for Alejandro._

_Another sigh._

_"I hope you didn't take this too personally, Don Alejandro: Araceli seems to have developed a strong dislike for this noble institution that is marriage. I am sure it had nothing to do with you."_

Hard not to take it personally when your marriage proposal is rejected, _Alejandro inwardly remarked. And he visibly didn't look convinced because Don Melchior added:_

_"Don't let it eat away at you, Don Alejandro. Whether we like it or not, Araceli has her quirks, and her past marriage disappointed her previously very high expectations. I guess people have to take her as a whole, with her good sides as well as her annoying ones, with her qualities and her flaws... But if you didn't understand this about her earlier, I think you should have refrained from starting a... a... a personal relationship with her..."_

_"I... respect her choices... and her decision, Don Melchior, I assure you. I know she is a... rather unusual person... but I also see her wonderful qualities. Even those she tried to hide at first. Yet I still think she should have accepted my proposal. If only for the sake of the child... But I can't force her down the aisle to the altar, can I? And I don't want to marry someone who would only grudgingly accept my hand with obvious reluctance. I may have erred astray, but I still have my pride."_

_Don Melchior poured him more Armagnac and shrugged. Then he handed him his glass and told him:_

_"Bah, don't think too much about her refusal... You duly proposed, you did what you had to do, the rest is her decision. Although of course you wouldn't have had to propose in the first place if you hadn't... taken liberties with my daughter. Which, to be honest, leads me to think that you are certainly not entitled to bring up your pride in anything related to that matter, if you allow me to be so blunt. And even if you don't, come to think of that. I'll tell you what I think of all this: I am not utterly pleased with the idea of soon having a bastard in the family, and I certainly don't approve of your behaviour with my daughter. Who by the way is a good twenty-five years younger than you are." He paused and shot him a stern glare. "But what is done is done, and I am not naive enough a father to think that Araceli doesn't have an equal share of responsibility in this affair. I know my daughter," he added with a sigh, "and I know the way she has chosen to live her private life. And talking about responsibilities, I appreciate that you don't seem to want to shirk yours, this is at least something we have to give you credit for."_

_Alejandro took a few seconds to stomach the man's reproaches, but he had to admit that they were justified in his eyes, and all in all it was much milder than many of the scenarios he had imagined during the long ride from Los Angeles._

_"Well, thank you for your honest forthrightness, Don Melchior. I appreciate it. I know my behaviour has not been up to the usual moral standards, but I assure you that I have the deepest respect for your daughter. We have grown fond of each other over the past few years, and even more lately; and of course if one day Araceli's view on marriage were to evolve, I wouldn't evade my duty."_

_"That's spoken like a true caballero and a man of honour..." Don Melchior said, visibly pleased by Alejandro's pledge,"...albeit not like a man in love..." he added in a much lower voice, more to himself than for the other man's benefit._


	117. Ch 117 - Fallen on the field of honour

_Half an hour later as he was in his bedroom, Alejandro heard a knock on his door and before he could think twice about it he answered "Come in!"_

_The door opened and Araceli entered the room. With a sudden pang of panic Alejandro thought that if her parents found her there, especially after dinner, they certainly wouldn't be pleased. But Araceli didn't seem to care about it, or more probably the thought simply didn't even cross her mind._

_Still, he felt relieved when she closed the door behind her: at least this time Don Melchior or Doña Leocadia wouldn't stumble upon their daughter visiting a man in his bedroom, even innocently so._

_"So, it went well, you see..." she said with a reassuring smile. "I told you they were nice people..."_

_Alejandro forced a smile on his lips:_

_"At least I am unharmed, yes... I must admit that before I met them, I wasn't totally sure I would get out of it with all my limbs."_

_Araceli had a hearty throaty laugh._

_"Oh, poor Papá! He wouldn't hurt a fly! Honestly, do you think I would have been able to live my life the way I do, earning a living through running a branch of his company with his blessing, if he'd been the kind of obtuse and close-minded bully you thought he was?"_

_Alejandro frowned._

_"Well, perhaps I am this kind of 'obtuse and close-minded bully' myself," he replied a bit miffed, "because should a daughter of mine have been seduced by a man, I am not sure I would have let him get off with just the kind of slap on the wrist your father gave me tonight..."_

_Araceli sighed._

_"You are far too old-fashioned for your own good," she told him._

_"Just say that I am too old-fashioned for_ you _" he retorted a bit too heatedly._

_She was about to snap back when she paused and looked at him with a sad look in her eyes._

_"I don't want to quarrel with you again," she sighed. "Please don't turn into some stuffy fuddy-duddy..." she gently asked him, slowly raising her right hand to caress his cheek with the back of her bent fingers._

_He pulled a face at her words but melted at her gesture. Still frowning, he gently grabbed her hand and dropped a soft kiss on the tip of her fingers._

_"Well, I_ am _old-fashioned, you already knew that even before you asked me to kiss you for the first time..." he reminded her._

_"I know... I don't understand this attraction that's continuously pulling me to you... but I regret nothing," she added, wrapping her arms around him with a content sigh._

_"Rather remorse than regrets," Alejandro remembered aloud._

_"Exactly."_

_She took one of his hands and slipped it between their touching chests to gently press it against her stomach._

_"And you...?" she asked._

_He pressed his forehead to hers, his nose to hers, and with closed eyes he simply murmured:_

_"No regrets either."_

_After a whole minute, Alejandro finally drew apart from her. He even took a step back and said:_

_"I'd rather not have your parents find us like that... I guess that what they witnessed earlier before dinner was already a bit too much for them."_

_Araceli smiled._

_"You know, unless they were severely misinformed as to how my siblings and I came to spring into existence, I guess they strongly suspect that something more occurred between you and me..." she said with a wink._

_Again, Alejandro made a face._

_"Of course, but still: knowing is one thing, witnessing is another one altogether!"_

_Araceli agreed._

_"Yes, and they really don't need the details either. Some of these might haunt them and their mind's eye until even after our child makes them great-grandparents!" she said with a chuckle. "Remember what happened on the library's chaise longue?" she added with a wink._

Oh Dios! _Yes he remembered. And for no love or money would he wish the Ximénezes to hear about_ that!

_"...and the sala's sideboard...?" Araceli went on with a grin._

_Oh yes, he remembered that one too. And he also remembered the marks they left on the marble top of it: the usual and apparently anodyne fingerprints, yes, but also... hum, the mark left by Araceli's sweaty... tender rear parts on the marble. He also remembered that a few hours later when sunlight hit the sideboard with a particular angle it had made this mark still visible even once it had dried, so Alejandro had hastily wiped it with his sleeve._

_A bit embarrassed at the thought, he chewed on his lower lip and of course Araceli didn't miss it. She seemed to enjoy putting him slightly ill-at-ease just as much as her father enjoyed toying with his unease and keeping him on pins and needles earlier in the evening. Alejandro now knew whom she got this teasing trait from._

_"Oh, and the vestibule's half-moon console table!" she added._

_He couldn't help a chuckle, then he replied:_

_"I remember that the small wooden stand in front of it was apparently a bit too close: it bore the brunt of your... uh... enthusiasm!"_

_"I didn't kick it on purpose, I didn't aim for it!" she retorted with mock hurt. "Well, it died a glorious death..." she added with an impish smile._

_"Fallen on the field of honour..." Alejandro commented, mirroring her smile._

_"Killed in action..." she echoed._

_"...for a lady's service," he added. "What nobler end could there be?"_

_And he bowed over her hand to kiss it. Then he decided to play along her game, if only to show her that he was less of a stuffy fuddy-duddy than she feared:_

_"Remember the stone bench in your garden...? I had just arrived from Los Angeles, was probably smelling like horse and sweat, and the bumpy bench was not particularly comfortable to my back or my... uh... fundament. But you barely left me time to dismount and flung yourself at me even before I entered the house, and soon you were all over me!"_

_"I remember..." she said with a fond smile. "Well, what can I say... I was suffering severe withdrawal symptoms! But I don't remember hearing you protest..." She winked at him. "Who knows, perhaps that's when we conceived..." she said, gazing down at her own middle._

_"Well, we'll never know anyway," he replied pensively._

_"Yes, too many possibilities..." she teasingly added, nicely rewarded of her cheek by the rosy blush on Alejandro's face. "And some very creative ones at that... like the day we made an interesting use of the marble washstand in my bedroom! I'm sure its thudding against the wall could be heard from the other rooms..."_

_"A good thing that the servant's quarters are far from your bedroom and that the kitchen is on the opposite side of the house!" Alejandro said._

_"Yes, well, anyway I'm quite sure one or two of them already stumbled upon us either in the sala or the library..."_

_"Oh my God!" Alejandro let out, rather horrified at the thought of being caught 'with his trousers down', according to the popular expression._

_Araceli shrugged._

_"It's not like they don't know about the turn our relationship has taken! Servants always know everything about their masters, the most intimate things... and they also sometimes happen to witness it although they don't say a thing. What did you think?" She paused to shoot him a knowing wink, then she shrugged. "But as long as young Aníbal doesn't come across such a sight... He is far too young for that!"_

_"Does it mean that we are to limit our field of action to your bedroom? Not that I complain, mind you: the more I advance in age, the more I appreciate the comfort of a nice and welcoming mattress..."_

_Araceli chuckled._

_"Lazybones..." she said._

_"Lazy? Me? I think I have proven you more than once that I am certainly_ not _lazy in that area!"_

_She smiled, then she couldn't help tease him:_

_"Although you also appreciate when I'm the one doing the work, don't you?"_

_Another cheeky wink._

_"Well, let's agree on the fact that all in all it is meant to be a teamwork, then..." he suggested._

_Her smile slowly turned into a wide grin and Alejandro knew that Araceli was about to say something that would make him blush._

_"Like it had roughly been ever since our first night together...? Or like that day in the stables, remember?"_

_Ooooh, yes, he did remember. How could he ever forget the stables... Although Alejandro knew in advance that she would make him blush, he couldn't help the warm flush that crept along his neck and his cheeks up to his forehead. The stables... If the Lord granted him thirty or even forty more years of earthly life, he would probably still remember it on his deathbed. That day in the stables... the wooden pillar, the beam, the gate, but also... but also... the way she... Alejandro didn't know where on earth she got acquainted with these kinds of practices, but despite his generally very proper take on things, he had to inwardly admit that he was darn glad she did! And to her joyful retort of 'should I remind you that I have been married?' all he had found to reply at the time was that he too had been married, and for longer than she had, and yet–_

_"Alejandro...? Alejandro...!"_

_He snapped out of his reverie._

_"As much as I'd like to further reminisce about our nice memories," she told him, "I think it is now time for us to go to bed," she stated, pointing at the bed behind him._

_Alejandro blanched._

_"You mean... ow, Araceli dear... with the thought of your parents down the corridor tickling at the back of my mind, I am sorry but I don't think I would be physically able to..."_

_Araceli cast a puzzled look on him, then it suddenly dawned on her:_

_"Oh! NO! No, I didn't mean... Ew! With my parents right there in the other guestroom...! Oh, I have moral standards, Alejandro! And anyway, I couldn't relax enough to be in the mood for it. Just like you. The mere thought of Mamá and Papá... ew, that's too disturbing. And just imagine that they hear us!"_

_No, Alejandro would rather_ not _imagine that._

_"But not only that," Araceli went on. "It is simply a matter of respect. There are limits, and I have principles!"_

_"Yes, only not necessarily the same principles as most people..." Alejandro teased her._

_She arched an eyebrow._

_"Well, I don't think you have to complain about that... After all, you directly benefit from it!" she replied with a wry smile. "Now, off to bed, it's late! Each his own bed, I mean."_

_Alejandro smiled and took a step closer to her to drop a sweet and chaste goodnight kiss on her cheek. She responded with a kiss of her own on his forehead._

_"Goodnight Alejandro."_

_But they lingered there, almost in each other's arms._

_"But come to think of that..." Araceli drawled, "and without of course, uh... overriding the boundaries of our shared principles, we could perhaps... uh... spend the night in the same bed...?"_

_Alejandro smiled and hugged her tight._

_"Yes I'd like that," he answered softly. He kissed her cheek again. "I've missed you," he added._

_She snuggled closer and smiled contentedly._

_"I've missed you too. I'll just have to leave before dawn and go to my own bed then. I wouldn't want Mamá to barge in my bedroom in order to check on me and find an empty bed that hadn't even been slept in..."_

_"She seems to be very involved in... uh... your condition..."_

_"A real mother hen!" she confirmed in a chuckle." Each time one of her daughters is with child she showers us with advice and questions about how it is going, whether we are feeling unwell and what to do to keep safe and reduce the risks. But well... I'm not complaining too much, after all: it is nice to be coddled and cocooned from time to time, to have someone pamper me and make a fuss of me... But only once in a while! I couldn't put up with it if she were to stay here for the six or seven months to come! I would have gone insane by the end of the first month."_

_And she laughed._

_"Did she say anything about me earlier, when the two of you were in your bedroom...?" Alejandro asked Araceli as he was getting ready for bed._

_"No. Well, yes, she told me that if I had been twenty years older she would have said that I have excellent taste..."_

_Alejandro made a face at this double-edged and ambiguous 'praise'._

_"I'm not sure I am to take this as a compliment," he grumbled, "or only a rather backhanded one..."_

_"Don't pout, that went well! I smoothed the rough edges. She is really nice, you'll see it once you know her. And what about Papá? What do you think of him?"_

_"I'm more worried about what he thinks of me! He lectured me, which I admit is only fair, but he hinted at my age of course. Or at least he stressed it. You should have told them before I arrived: can you imagine that they thought you were seeing my son rather than me!"_

_She turned and presented her back to his eyes:_

_"Can you please unlace me?" she gently asked him. "I won't call a maid to your bedroom to help me prepare for bed... And don't fret too much over Papá's remarks, don't let it gnaw away at you: I'm sure it's just because he realised that he owes you respect by one year!"_

_"WHAT? Your father is younger than I am?" Alejandro interjected. "Fantastic, now_ this _takes the biscuit..." he lamented._

 _"By only one year, Alejandro... that's nothing! And if it can help you feel better, Mamá is two years_ older _than you are. Happy?"_

_"Absolutely delighted," he ironically replied in a gloomy voice. "Damn ribbon," he growled as his clumsy and nervous fingers were fighting the lacing at the back of her bodice, "are you sure you should squeeze yourself that much? I mean, in your condition..."_

_"Mamá said it's alright, nothing dangerous..." she replied._

_"If Mamá said so..." Alejandro sceptically said._

_Araceli shrugged. "I feel all right," she told him. "And Mamá also always says that the tighter a corset is laced, the more it brings the bosom out," she added with a wink._

_Well, it certainly did, Alejandro inwardly remarked. Not that she needed it, though. And now that she mentioned the subject... oooh! Yes, hers had certainly... uh... gone even more... uh... more_ wow _than it already usually was. 'Blessed be this condition', Alejandro thought._

_And all in all she didn't look unwell. If anything, she was looking more fresh-faced than ever thanks to a finer and purer skin texture than before._

_"Indeed you look absolutely radiant," he complimented her._

_"Well, thank you kind sir, but just wait until tomorrow morning and you'll see how radiantly I can throw up my breakfast"_

_Araceli put on an ample nightshirt she found in a drawer and she slipped under the covers. Alejandro joined her and as they snuggled against each other, he idly and gently ran his hand up and down her arm and shoulder. His last thought before falling asleep was that Araceli's skin had gone incredibly soft lately. Almost silky._

_Yes, blessed be pregnancy!_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_On the following morning Alejandro saw Araceli go through a wide range of colours. A real rainbow!_

_It started in the middle of breakfast: she suddenly turned rather green around the gills, which was creating a rather curious result with the blue of her dress, and at some point she even excused herself from the table and left the room at a rather brisk pace. When she came back a couple of minutes later she was looking better, although pale. Almost as white as a sheet. Well, as white as her golden-honey natural swarthy complexion could possibly let her appear._

_After a few minutes she looked healthier; and when at the end of breakfast her father suggested that the four of them take a walk in the vicinity while the sun was not yet as blazing hot as it could be by midday, her face looked its usual colour again._

_"A family outing of some sort...?" she asked her father._

_"A rather discreet one, yes," his wife answered for him._

_Acting on an impulse, Araceli kissed her mother's cheek and then her father's._

_"Gracias Mamá, gracias Papá," she thanked them, visibly pleased with her parents' acceptance, even if they didn't necessarily approve._

_Her father looked at her with evident sweetness, tenderness and fondness in his eyes._

_"Come here, you're a good little one, niña..." he told her in a soft voice while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to bring her closer and drop a kiss of his own on her forehead._

_The four of them got out of the sala and when they reached the vestibule on their way out, Don Melchior naturally presented his arm to his wife. So just in order to make clear to everyone here what was still the nature of her relationship with Alejandro and that she didn't intend to let anyone decide of it for the two of them, Araceli slipped her own arm under his and squeezed it with a light and reassuring pressure of her fingers on his forearm._

_He loved the rosy glow on her cheeks when she did so. But just as Araceli's father was opening the front door to finally get out of the house, her mother frowned slightly while looking at the wall in front of the entry's small marble table, and she asked her daughter:_

_"Araceli, wasn't there my mother's old wooden stand just here, before?"_

_Araceli blanched. For a split second she even stopped breathing._

_"Oh yes, I think so," her father agreed with his wife. "What did you do with it?" he ingenuously asked their daughter._

_From deathly pale, Araceli's face went to an almost scarlet hue up to her hairline in the twinkling of an eye. Well, to be honest Alejandro suspected that his own face was probably not very far behind this particular shade of red._

_"...Broken," Araceli finally shortly mumbled in half a breath before she hurriedly dragged them all across the threshold._


	118. Ch 118 - Out of the blues

As they left the tavern, Victoria kindly saw Don Alejandro and Leonor to the porch. The pueblo's taverness now looked better than a few days earlier, the older man thought, but she had still not reverted to her happy and bright usual self, and especially not as glad and vibrant as she had looked over the past few months. Alejandro regretted that she had to go through this heartache – and even that she had to break up with Zorro in the first place – but 'no pain no gain'... and if Diego finally decided to get over his dread of his own supposed barrenness and to act on his feelings now that Victoria was free of any ties, perhaps this heartbreak over the pueblo's hero would in fact turn out to be a blessing in disguise, for her...

Yes, rather think about Victoria's love life, or his son's for that matter, than about his own... And rather patronise Diego over his fears and doubts than acknowledge his own.

As they reached the porch and bid Victoria goodbye, the three of them came across Diego who was arriving from the tying post where he had just left his mare.

"Oh look Papá, he has beautiful flowers!" Leonor shouted.

Indeed, Diego was carrying a bunch of white daisies, iris, orange blossoms, forget-me-not, flax flowers and white lilies.

_How beautiful_ , Victoria thought inwardly, glad that Diego was apparently bringing her flowers again despite the end of their 'special agreement'. And the sweet assortment of blue and white shades was indeed very elegant, it would look great in her vase on her dressing table. Or perhaps she'd put it on her nightstand? Or even on a shelf on the wall behind her bar, for all the tavern's customers to see...

Alejandro looked at the flowers with utter satisfaction. _Excellent!_ After months – and perhaps years – Diego finally set out to show Victoria his special appreciation of her. Better late than never! And now, with Zorro out of the picture, Victoria may be more receptive to it... Alejandro sighed with satisfaction. _Wonderful!_ And if the look on Victoria's face was anything to go by, she would indeed be receptive to Diego's appreciation and seemed to be pleased with his initiative.

Diego finally reached them and exchanged a few words with his father, his sister and Victoria on the porch of the tavern.

"You have beautiful flowers here, Diego," Leonor said while pointing at the bouquet in his right hand. "Do you now have a _novia_?"

Alejandro opened wide eyes at his daughter's blunt question, and Victoria turned a rosy hue. Being considered Diego's _novia_... it sounded a bit weird to her ears, but what a strangely heart-fluttering idea!

Diego let out a hearty laugh at his sister's question.

"Oh no," he finally answered her innocent question, "these are for my mother," he explained.

The half-smile on Victoria's lips froze into a stiff fake one as an icy-cold something fell down to the pit of her stomach and made the effect of a cold shower on her, and Alejandro was suddenly having mixed feelings: on the one hand he was disappointed at his dashed hopes of Diego finally trying his hand at suing for Victoria's affections, but on the other hand he was glad at his son's devotion to his mother. Diego really was a sweet boy, and the best son he and his wife could have dreamed of. Dear, dear Diego! If only he could also think about bringing flowers to _living_ women! Women _outside_ his family, of course...

"But your Mamá is dead!" Leonor ingenuously told him. "Oh, sorry Diego... sorry Papá... I didn't want to upset you or make you sad..."

The two men had a sweet smile for her.

"Yes she is," Diego gently replied, "the flowers are for her grave in the churchyard. She used to make blue and white bouquets of flower in May to adorn the small alabaster statue of Nuestra Señora in the sala. Remember, Father?"

"I do..." Alejandro answered with a nostalgic sweet smile. "She used to put these in her sister's crystal vase, most of the time." He paused. "But we're not in May, Diego!"

"Sure, but why should it prevent me from decking my mother's grave with some of the flowers she liked?"

Don Alejandro smiled.

"You are right, Son. Would you accept me to come with you, or did you want to spend some time alone on her grave?"

"Of course you can come with me! I'll be glad to share this moment with you. It's been some time since we last went together on her grave. I generally go there on my own, when I happen to pass by the churchyard, and you do the same. Let's go there together this time..."

Alejandro nodded.

"But before that..." Diego said, crouching down to his sister and pulling a stem of flax flower out of his bouquet to hold it out to her, "allow me to present you with these modest flowers, fair Señorita."

Leonor had a wide grin, she giggled at his playfully formal wording and took it with obvious pleasure.

"Gracias Diego," she thanked him before leaning in to kiss her brother's cheek.

Diego stood up again and took a proud daisy out of his bunch of flowers.

"And this one is for you," he added, holding it out to Victoria.

"Gracias Don Diego," she replied, taking it from him.

Alejandro had a pleased smile at his son's gesture toward her.

"Victoria my dear," he then told her, "can I leave Leonor with you for a quarter of an hour? We won't be long."

"Oh Papá, can't I come with you?"

Diego looked at her, surprised. He loved his sister dearly, yes, but why would she want to intrude on _his_ mother's grave? He felt that she had no right to. She probably didn't realise the extent of what she was asking, he then reasoned.

"Leonor, mi cariño," her father told her, "this is not some idle walk my dear. And it will probably be boring to you: Diego and I will pray on the grave of someone you didn't even know!"

Leonor turned a slightly sad look on him.

"But Papá, you and Diego can tell me about her, then! And I have already prayed with Mamá for her..."

_What?_ Diego thought. How dared this woman even _think_ about his mother, about the legitimate and lawful wife of the man she seduced, without blushing with shame?

Alejandro's thoughts were of course very different from his son's, and he turned an equally surprised but much more tenderly moved gaze on the child.

"Really?" he asked.

Leonor nodded.

"Yes, and every night in my evening prayers Mamá tells me to ask her soul to look after you, when you are not with us in San Diego. And after Diego too, now."

Oh, did she? Alejandro clearly melted, and this revelation didn't help him smother his newly acknowledged feelings for Araceli. He leaned down and fondly kissed their daughter's forehead. Victoria too looked touched by this bit of information about Señora Valdès, and even Diego couldn't help an almost positive feeling toward this woman. She wasn't that bad, after all.

Alejandro held out his hand to Leonor and said:

"Let's go, then."

And with his two children, he crossed the plaza to the churchyard.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

In her kitchen, Victoria was frowning at her white daisy. It was nice, yes, but... when you had thought at first that a man had put thought into picking a whole bunch of flowers _for you,_ and in the end you realise that he had intended these for another woman – be it his mother – a single daisy given just on the spur of the moment and with no more thought than if you'd been his sister looked rather disappointing. Almost contemptuous. After all he also gave one to Leonor, for God's sake.

Victoria sighed. _Stupid girl_ , she called herself. What did she think? She was _not_ his _novia,_ she should have remembered that. Yet she missed his nice little attentions and tokens of appreciation from back when they were lovers. She sighed again and idly plucked a petal of the flower. Then a second one, with more frustration. And another one. Then she absent-mindedly started a mantra of 'he-loves-me/he-loves-me-not' with each petal.

And when the last petal came off with a 'he-loves-me-not' line, Victoria threw the naked stem to the ground with a muttered "Stupid flower" and a shrug of her shoulders.

But on second thought, on which petal exactly did she start chanting the first 'he-loves-me'? After all, perhaps she skipped one petal? Or perhaps there had been a shift from the start?

She shook her head, as to clear her mind: stupid girl, it was nothing but a child's game for Heaven's sake!

And anyway, 'he-loves-her' or 'he-loves-her-not', what on earth did it matter?


	119. Ch 119 - The wheat and the chaff

"That's truly outrageous! I can't believe you're selling bread that price, Señorita!"

"Ow, you are going to keep your voice down, Corporal," Victoria retorted. "I'll have you know that if the bread has grown more expensive in my tavern, it's because flour has grown more expensive as well. Just like did wheat and any kind of grain lately, which you couldn't have failed to notice if you were a farmer or if you had to shop to prepare your own meals."

Many approving grunts came from other patrons of the tavern seated under the porch to confirm her words, and Sepulveda paid Victoria the price she had set for his bread-and-cheese snack.

"It's true that the prices have risen," Don Alejandro told his son as they were passing by the tavern just in time to witness the scene. "It seems that grain is a bit scarce lately, I don't know what is slowing the conveyance and delivery to Los Angeles; I'll have to write about it to Araceli, she may have some information on the matter after all, she is buying and selling grain among other goods. Too bad I didn't think of it while she was still here..."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Yes, Felipe, I too am wondering why less and less grain arrives to the pueblo," Diego told his younger friend as they were going down the stairs to Zorro's hidden lair. "There will still be the corn our local farmers are growing here, but it won't be enough for the entire population. Not if they want to keep enough of it in store for next season's seed-time... And anyway wheat is not the best-suited crop for Los Angeles: not enough rain, too much heat... Fruits and vegetables better fit with our climate."

Felipe made the gesture of grabbing something and hiding it behind his back, then he made the usual sign for 'money'.

"Yes Felipe, I think someone along the chain is either stealing part of the sacks of grain – or even hiding part of his own if his production is very large – to make the prices rise, and then sell it little by little here and there so as to remain inconspicuous but make a substantial profit out of this manoeuvre. By seed time, for instance."

Felipe frowned and pointed at the coat rack in a corner of the cave.

"Yes, my dear friend: our masked acquaintance is going to discreetly hover around the roads leading to the pueblo, just to keep record of the freight that reach Los Angeles, and perhaps take a look at it."

Felipe smiled and nodded while Diego winked at him.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

 _Sand?_ Felipe asked.

"Sand," Zorro confirmed. "The conveyors looked just as surprised as I was. A tenth of the sacks, those on the top, were indeed filled with wheat like those they had just delivered to the miller, but the rest of the carriage load was only filled with sand or tiny peebles. I had them swear they wouldn't spread word about it before some time... time enough for us to investigate this strange matter, my young friend."

Felipe indicated that they could have been lying and acting surprised.

"I know, I know, I won't take their sole word for it. According to them, they took charge of the sacks near San Fernando Rey this morning from another group of conveyors from Santa Paula, without checking the content. I followed them discreetly afterwards, and indeed they took the way back to San Fernando."

Felipe opened his hands in a _'what are we going to do now'_ manner.

"I don't know, Felipe. We'll keep watching for more information, perhaps near San Fernando. Or perhaps I'll even go all the way to Santa Paula, who knows..."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"Oh, can I go with you? Pretty please, pretty please, pretty please..."

"That is no game, Leonor," Diego replied to his sister's eager plea, "and it won't be funny at all to a young child like yourself: I will just sit in a room and discuss complicated things for hours and hours with another man you... We probably even won't perform any experiment."

"And this penfriend of yours is staying in Santa Paula just for a few days?" Alejandro asked.

"He's more an acquaintance than a friend, you know. We've exchanged letters about some scientific matters a few years ago and kept in touch ever since. And yes, he's only staying in Santa Paula for a few days on his way back from San Francisco. He is living in Guadalajaja."

Alejandro sighed, already resigned to his son's oddities and quirks.

"And how long will you be gone?" he simply asked him.

"I don't really know... Perhaps three or four days?"

"All right, son. Keep safe and be extra careful on the road... Come to think of that, you should take Felipe with you, just in case anything happens..."

Diego didn't like this idea: he needed Felipe to be his ears and eyes here in the pueblo while he was gone.

"Really Father, that's not necessary. And it will bore him stiff once there."

"Not if I come with the two of you too, Diego!" Leonor tried again, jumping at the chance of spending some time alone with Felipe.

"No, the last thing Felipe needs is to babysit you days and nights," Alejandro flatly stated.

Leonor pulled a face.

"And wouldn't you rather spend some time alone with your old papá...? Just you and me..."

The child looked clearly tempted.

"Just the two of us all day long...?" she asked her father. "And you'll take me out to ride? And you'll play chess with me?"

"And I will also take you out to a picnic in the hills, near the small waterfall. Just the two of us."

Leonor bounced up and down.

"Oh yes, oh yes! Gracias Papá."

Diego sighed his relief. Once again he had lied to his father. Or at least he disguised the truth. Masked it. But it was for greater good, right?

"And, Papá...?" the little girl then asked.

"Yes, mi gatita?"

"Would you also teach me how to fence?"

"Absolutely not, mi cariño."

Again, Leonor pulled a face.

"But whyyyy? Diego told me you started teaching him when he was my age!"

"For what good it did..." all the persons in the room could hear Alejandro mutter under his breath. "But Diego is a boy," he went on aloud, "and you, my dear, are a girl."

"So what?" Leonor asked, clearly puzzled by what her father considered like an apparently incontestable argument, and not understanding at all what it had to do with the matter they were discussing.

 _Damn Araceli_ , Alejandro thought, _she had put thoughts into this child's head, thoughts that she could do everything... everything that men do..._ He sighed. _Typical Araceli_. She was just preparing a life of constant disappointments for their daughter...

But for the moment, Alejandro was at a loss and didn't know what to retort to Leonor: he had been so convinced of how obvious his previous – and only – argument was that he couldn't imagine that she didn't understand the mere imperious logic of it and bow before it.

Thankfully for him, salvation came from his son: Diego crouched in front of Leonor, and when his face was on level with hers he looked at her very seriously and told her:

"You know, weapons are dangerous things. There is nothing great or fun about these. They are NOT toys. Comprendes?"

His sister nodded.

"Si, but I'd like to learn fencing anyway," she answered. "It is so graceful and beautiful when it is just about the fencing itself, and not a fight for real; when no one tries to kill or wound the opponent, but when it's only about disarming him!"

Diego hid his agreement with his sister's view on fencing.

"And if I'm taught well," she added, "then that way I'll be able to defend and protect Papá when he is too old for that!"

 _Ow_. Alejandro made the same kind of face as when he was swallowing something particularly sour. Well, he hadn't reached that point... _yet_ , he thought. Although Felipe's help had been very welcome a few months earlier when he had confronted Leonor's youngest kidnapper in the desert hills.

He looked from his daughter to his son, trying to find the right argument that would deter her from this new obsession of hers. A _girl_ , fencing! Really! Who did she think she was, the Chevalier d'Éon? All she would achieve was making a fool of herself, making _him_ ridiculous, and perhaps injure herself. He didn't want to worry about her, not to mention that Araceli would probably skin him alive if anything were to happen to Leonor under his watch or because he had acquainted her with blades. Couldn't she be happy with only picnics, beautiful flowers, music and chess?

Setting his gaze on Diego, Alejandro murmured in a sigh:

"Sometimes I regret she's not a bit more like yourself, Son."

Getting back to a standing position, Diego ruffled his sister's unruly hair in an affectionate instinctive gesture with a faraway look and an unreadable dreamy smile.

_Oh, but she is, Father, she is... you'd be surprised at how much alike we are!_


	120. Ch 120 - Duos habet, et bene utitur

_Nothing._

Nothing, nothing, nothing. Desperately nothing.

Three whole days of searching, investigating and watching around Santa Paula, and still nothing. Diego was beginning to lose patience. Oh, admittedly bread was a bit more expensive than usual in Santa Paula too, farmers and haciendados were beginning to moan about having trouble to find grain for a fair price, but none of the freights he managed to discreetly examine – either coming in town or out of it to the East – appeared to have been tampered with or replaced with sand.

He sighed and rode back to the town to have lunch and then take a restorative nap in his bedroom at the inn. When he woke up fully rested at the beginning of the afternoon, he thought that, since he was in Santa Paula and incognito, perhaps it was time to take care of a more personal matter by implementing the idea that had been ticking over in his mind for at least one month...

That's how by mid-afternoon and after he gathered his most personal courage to do so, Diego knocked on the local doctor's door.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

José-Luis Floréal, the only medicine doctor in Santa Paula and around, assessed the man in front of him. It was not that often that strangers came to his office for a consultation, and most of the time it was because of an injury caused by a fall from horse on their way from or back to wherever their home was. Or occasionally by a brawl at the local tavern – or just outside it.

But the case exposed by this new unexpected patient was totally different from all that. No unplanned wound or fever here, and in fact it could have waited until he was back home. Yet he came here and now, far from home as he was staying in a foreign town, and he chose to see a doctor he didn't even know. José-Luis suppressed a smile with this latter thought: he was quite sure this was precisely the reason why this Señor Fernando Estévez had come _here_ , to _him,_ rather than to the family doctor who probably knew him since childhood. Perhaps 'Estévez' was not even his real name!

Well, enough with the amusement, the poor man had come to him with a serious reason and deep down it was indeed absolutely no laughing matter.

A healthy man, in his early thirties, with no apparent physical problem, no current health condition, as far as he knew... perhaps he had simply not been trying long enough! Or perhaps the impossibility simply came from his wife?

"And you said you had been married for...?"

"Six months, Doctor," Señor 'Estevez' answered.

"And... uh... have you and your wife been... uh... how to say that... _trying_... and trying _enough_... ever since the very beginning, or...?"

His new patient seemed a bit puzzled by this question. Doctor Floréal saw his eyes widen a bit.

"I... think so..." Señor Estévez answered. "But... well, I'm not sure what is 'enough' in your opinion, Doctor..."

The man paused, so the doctor asked him:

"Well, how often...?"

He didn't dare finish his sentence but the meaning was clear enough for his patient to understand it and blush a slight bit. Obviously, Señor 'Estevez' was feeling just as much unease in addressing this most intimate subject as José-Luis was feeling in inquiring about it.

"...Roughly thrice a week," the man answered in an embarrassed low voice. "Sometimes four... or even five..."

_Four times a week! For six months!_ This time it could have been Doctor Floréal's turn to have his eyes grow wider if not for the years-long experience as a doctor, which had taught him to keep a poker face in front of a patient. Thrice a week! A good thing this man was in his thirties, because his wife seemed to be incredibly demanding! Or was it just the enthusiasm of the early beginnings? Or... or they really, really wanted this child they were having trouble to conceive.

For a split second, José-Luis envied the younger man's age and vigour – _five times a week!_ – but then he thought that for his part he really liked his rest and his beauty sleep; and as far as complying with his own marital duties was concerned he was happier with the quality rather than the quantity. So no, he didn't envy this man after all, despite all appearances. _Four times a week! For the last six months!_ This man married a real slave-driver! Gracias a Dios, his own wife was far less demanding.

But back to the medical matter at hand. Yes, 'roughly thrice a week' certainly qualified as 'enough'. Hands down. So either Señor Estévez's wife had a physical impossibility – or at least difficulty – with conceiving, or _he_ had. A consequence of his past mumps? Hmmm, total infertility ensuing from it was a very rare occurrence, though...

And now José-Luis had to ask a most delicate question, one he didn't really know how to ask. For the first time in his career he regretted that _these_ conditions were not deeper taught and addressed in the medical studies and curriculum.

Suppressing a sigh, he finally mumbled:

"And... uh... when... uh... Is... is everything going well...? I mean as expected...? As it should...? I mean, are you..."

Thankfully his patient finally got the general idea.

"...Fully functional...?" he finished for him.

José-Luis nodded, relieved that he didn't have to put more precise words on the phenomenon he was referring to. _You're a doctor, for God's sake,_ he chastised himself, _you should be able to describe physical and technical things without stuttering like a teenaged virgin!_

"Fully functional, yes," he confirmed what he meant in his earlier question.

"Yes," Señor Estévez-or-whatever-his-real-name-was answered. "I think so. I mean... everything is happening well when... uh..."

"All the way to the end?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," the man repeated.

"All right", Doctor Floréal then told his visitor, "will you please take off your clothes, I'm going to examine you then..."

According to his patient's face, you'd almost think that the doctor had just uttered an enormity. But just when José-Luis was about to repeat his request, the man seemed to realise that he was indeed with a doctor who couldn't find answers in a crystal ball but needed to examine his patients to make a diagnosis, so he awkwardly complied. Albeit visibly reluctantly so.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Nothing.

The doctor hadn't found anything.

Nothing seemed to be wrong.

Almost nothing. Admittedly one side was slightly smaller than the other, and during his examination the doctor vaguely spoke about a torsion, but he didn't seem alarmed by it, saying that if ever one side was defective, then the other was taking over anyway...

So the best advice the good doctor could give him was that he and his 'wife' should get on with trying, but more serenely and leisurely so, to just try to relax and stop obsessing about a child.

Easier said than done. Especially when the only reason he and Victoria started this relationship was precisely to make a child. And it was also the very reason why he had called an end to it: he wasn't able to give her that, so there was no point in keeping her from trying to start this family she wanted so much with someone else.

With him she wouldn't get anything in the long run.

He ran his hands over his face with a deep sigh.

Nothing.

On either of the two things he had been seeking here in Santa Paula.

Nothing about the mystery of grain turned to sand.

Nothing about a possible or impossible paternity for him in the future.

Nothing.


	121. Ch 121 - Merry-Spring

The Chumash settlement was quiet on this very early hour of the day. A few children were running here and there, people were beginning their day's work but Merry-Spring, a thirty-something Chumash woman, had just finished her very long one. She was exhausted after spending the whole night helping her youngest sister deliver her firstborn. Or rather, her _two_ firstborns. It had been a surprise even to Merry-Spring, the tribe's midwife, who hadn't noticed that her sister had been expecting twins. She sighed: she still had things to learn before reaching their late mother's expertise in this area.

It had been a long and difficult night, but thankfully her sister and both babies were doing well, for the moment. Time to finally get some well-deserved rest, for both women! She stretched and yawned, then yawned and stretched again before heading to her hut. She was about to enter when she heard the sound of a cart. Who was coming to their settlement so early in the morning? And more important, why?

She turned and saw the nearby Spanish pueblo's innkeeper get down the cart. Señorita Escalante? What was she doing here so soon after the crack of dawn?

"Good morning, Singing-Wind", she greeted the elder. "As promised, here are the worn blankets I have brought to barter for some of your earthenware. I have washed these of course..."

"You are up early, Tiny-Lark," the old chief told her. "But you are welcome here, niña."

Merry-Spring saw the Spanish girl smile at the man's fatherly greeting and at the Indian name he gave her some years earlier.

Instead of heading straight to bed, the midwife went to the cart because she too had been waiting for some of these tatty blankets, in order to cut these into several smaller unfrayed pieces to keep her newborns cosy and warm. She helped 'Tiny-Lark' unload her cart and then re-load it with a few pieces of Chumash pottery.

"I've brought some hay to cushion and protect the pots and jugs," the girl said, pointing at two crates.

Once every piece of pottery was securely and cosily settled in the hay, the girl swiftly whispered in Merry-Spring's ear:

"Before I go, may I have a private word with you? Please..."

Hmm... it was not a rare occurrence that young women went to her for a reason more or less directly connected to her area of expertise, but they generally were a bit younger than Señorita Escalante; looking for technical advice, most of the time, or more rarely for the most basic knowledge. With women her age, it was generally for a confirmation of their early suspicions. And it was not the first time a Spaniard had come to her for these matters too, due to the lack of discretion within the small community they belonged to: hard to keep a secret in a village of only a few hundreds people, especially when you were a local figure!

"Could you please help me carry these blankets inside my hut, Señorita?" she astutely asked the innkeeper.

The girl nodded with a conniving smile and followed her.

"Good morning, Strong-Alder," she greeted Merry-Spring's husband once inside.

The man looked at her and frowned a bit, vaguely growling his welcome to the intruder. The latter probably didn't really take offense at this cool lip-service, the midwife thought, because it was a known thing that Strong-Alder was not overly fond of Spaniards – with perhaps the exception of the de la Vegas – and that he was sometimes being rather gruff. But still, she didn't like when he behaved like that with _her_ guests, so she cast him a reproachful glare.

"I have had a long night, Strong-Alder," she told him with a pointed look to clearly mean that she was in no mood for _his_ bad mood and that he'd better keep a low profile, "but unfortunately I will need dandelions later in the morning after I got some rest. So could you please go gather some in the hills?"

He looked at her.

"Now?" asked, visibly reluctant.

"Yes please, my darling husband," Merry-Spring sweetly but firmly answered.

The man knew better than angering his wife so he complied and headed outside. Before he fully exited, though, he turned and asked:

"How is your sister?"

"Doing well," she answered with a smile. "She is sleeping and resting, now."

Strong-Alder finally smiled too and left them.

"Alone at last..." Merry-Spring told her guest with a grin and a wink. "Well, _almost_ alone," she added, pointing at a wicker cradle in a corner of the room. "But this little one here won't care one bit about what you have to tell me. I'm all ears, Señorita..."

The girl in front of her chewed on her lips, looked away, sighed, then took a deep breath in and finally let out in a low voice:

"First, I need your word that nothing of what I am about to discuss with you will reach anyone else's ears..."

Merry-Spring suppressed a smile: she had been right about why the innkeeper had come _here_ , to _her_. She nodded:

"You have it," she simply replied.

The Spanish girl nodded her thanks and wrung her hands together a bit.

"It's about... uh... I am... in need... of your special expertise..." she mumbled.

Merry-Spring's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything.

"Perhaps you have heard that... uh... I... for years now Zorro has made a promise to me but... well, he hasn't been able to fulfil it yet... and still isn't... but lately... I mean, it has been a long waiting, longer than any of us had initially expected and... I couldn't wait forever for... some things... so I... But now the situation is so that... I need... I mean, I can't carry on... not like that..."

She went silent and Merry-Spring pieced together the bits of sentence she just heard. So... the juiciest gossips about the extent of the innkeeper's affair with Black-Fox were true, then...

Merry-Spring frowned. She was beginning to get a clearer picture of what the young woman had come to ask from her, and why she preferred the discretion of the remote Indian settlement.

"Señorita," she told the tavern owner, "if you have come here to ask me to make a child 'pass', then you're mistaken: I don't do these sorts of things. And before you ask: no, I don't know anyone who does."

"What?" the other woman asked, visibly puzzled. Then her eyes grew wide. "No!", she said as she seemed only then to get the meaning of Merry-Spring's words. "No, absolutely not! In fact, that's the exact opposite! I'm here because I have doubts, and theses doubts are beginning to be unbearable, it's driving me crazy."

"Oh! I see," the midwife then said as she understood her mistake, "you want to know for sure whether you are expecting or not..."

"No," the girl answered again. "I already know for sure that I'm not expecting. Unfortunately so..."

It was Merry-Spring's turn to be puzzled. So, if this unmarried woman wasn't expecting and was already absolutely sure of it, why had she so discreetly come to her? What on earth could she want? And why this 'unfortunately'? Generally, girls in her situation were feeling rather relieved...

"Then, Señorita, I really cannot see how my expertise can be of any interest to you..."

The innkeeper let out a heavy sigh before blurting out:

"I would like your opinion on... I would like to know whether I am physiologically able to carry a child or not."

A pause.

"Whether I am even able to _conceive_ one or not, to begin with..." she added. "And I supposed that... if you agreed to examine me..."

Merry-Spring kept herself from raising an eyebrow. Señorita Escalante was still unmarried, right? So if she was wondering about that, it probably meant that she was more than simply vaguely envisioning a hypothetic marriage in a faraway future...

"If you examined me, perhaps you'd immediately see something... wrong... and then..."

Another sigh.

"And then at least I'd know," she finally said.

After a long pause, Merry-Spring simply replied:

"Not everything can be seen trough examination, you know."

"Of course, I suppose so. But–"

"And I may not have the answers to your questions."

"I know that," the younger woman told her. "But... but as I just told you, I have doubts... I mean, I am beginning to doubt–"

Again, she wrung her hands together.

Apparently, this woman seemed to have _reasons_ to seriously doubt. And just like that, Merry-Spring also remembered what her husband had told her some time ago, about _who_ he saw discreetly come out of the tavern just before the crack of dawn... So Strong-Adler had been right about that, after all: not just some late night ending with simply staying at the tavern due to too much wine, then... _Ooooh, who would have thought!_ Of all the men in Los Angeles, _him!_

It was indeed no secret in the pueblo that the innkeeper had more or less promised herself to this mysterious Black-Fox, so after all it was not so surprising that the outlaw and his ladylove had shared _this sort_ of intimacy, but it was much more surprising that she had also played this game with local caballeros. Unless... unless she wanted to test her theory about her own possible lack of fertility by 'diversifying' her partners?

Black-Fox, and then – or even concomitantly! – Don Alejandro's son... _now who else?_ Merry-Spring mentally berated herself: none of her business, after all. She took her most professional tone to ask her 'patient':

"Could you please lie down on my bed? I am going to have a look at you, then. And you will tell me a bit more about your doubts and what exactly caused them to arise..."

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"So nothing is wrong with my body? Everything is working fine?"

"I cannot tell you so, I can only say that upon examination I did not notice any physical obvious evidence of an impediment to conception. But there are so many invisible things..."

"So you're telling me to just keep trying..."

"No I'm not, not if it is driving you crazy or obsessed. It must first and foremost be a pleasure, not an exercise..."

Victoria looked at her feet and sighed.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you the definitive answers you had come here for," the Indian woman gently told her.

"I'm not even sure whether I have come here for real answers or only for reassurance, now..."

"What do you mean...?"

"Not knowing... the doubts... on the one hand it's killing me... but on the other hand... on the other hand I wonder if..."

"If...?"

"...Well, not knowing is perhaps also a way to keep hoping. I mean, at least if you had told me that I can't have children perhaps it would have freed me from the renewed disappointment each time my period comes, and perhaps I would eventually feel at peace with this idea. But perhaps it would also make me far too sad, to the point of regretting asking the question, of regretting the time of 'not knowing', of 'still having hope'. Perhaps the death of hope would be the worst. Either the worst, or on the other hand a new beginning. I seem to be unable to decide."

"I don't have this answer either," the midwife replied. "No one has. Is your cycle regular?"

"Yes, desperately so. A real Swiss clock."

What on earth was this 'swisqlok' the girl was referring to? Merry-Spring didn't know. Probably a Spanish thing, she thought.

"And during the various and successive... attempts, is everything all right?"

"Yes."

"No discomfort? No pain?"

"No, everything is... rather well," Victoria soberly answered.

Merry-Spring raised an eyebrow.

"Only 'rather well'?" she asked. "Not even 'good'?"

Victoria felt her face blush a bit but couldn't help a smile on her lips.

" _Very_ good," she admitted. "Most of the time."

"Well, that's a good thing," the midwife answered with a wink and a knowing grin. "So at least you don't have any trouble with the act itself?"

"None at all. I'm... fine, in this area. I assure you. But in fact..."

"In fact...?" the Chumash woman encouragingly asked her.

Victoria looked down. Did she have the right to tell about someone else's problem? But, she reasoned, after all Merry-Spring wouldn't know _who_ she'd be referring to, so she wouldn't be betraying anyone's secret...

"In fact," she went on, "...The last few times _he_ was in fact the one who had trouble..."

The midwife looked at her.

"Trouble? What kind of trouble...?"

Victoria chewed on her lower lip.

"Trouble... you know... _getting ready_... for me."

Thank God it dawned on the woman, and Victoria didn't have to make an explicit and terribly embarrassing gesture to illustrate what she meant.

"Oh," the midwife simply commented. "Do you have a handkerchief?"

The question surprised Victoria but she took one out of her sash. Too late, she noticed that it was one Diego had forgotten one day on the wooden floor of her bedroom after getting undressed. Victoria had kept it, just like his black satin necktie. She prayed that the woman wouldn't notice – or at least not recognise – the monogram embroidered on it.

The midwife stood and went to a jar on the other side of the hut. When she came back, she handed her the handkerchief knotted in a ball, exactly like the sachets of lavender Vitoria usually prepared to perfume the linen stored in her closets.

"It's a mix of dried herbs and a few other ingredients. Of course you know that my husband is what you Spaniards call an apothecary, an herbalist..."

"Yes, Don Diego holds his knowledge in great esteem, I remember him telling me that."

Victoria saw the ghost of a strange smile on the midwife's lips... but she couldn't suspect anything about Diego and her, right?

"Well," Merry-Spring went on pointing at the handkerchief, "next time make your man drink an infusion of one teaspoon of this in a cup of hot water roughly a quarter of an hour before... It can help him."

Except that Merry-Spring couldn't know that there would never be a next time, Victoria inwardly sighed. At least not with Diego... She nonetheless politely took the handkerchief and thanked the woman. Her apparent lack of enthusiasm probably transpired, though, and the midwife added:

"Of course the medicine won't do everything, it only has a physical effect... Don't try it on a man who... who is not already interested in you, it won't magically make him crazy about you! It's just a purely mechanical little help. If there is another reason to his trouble, then it won't solve it. And don't exceed the dose: never more than one teaspoon at a time: first, it won't work better for all that, and second... too high a dose could be dangerous for your man! Just like any medicine: at some point a high dose can do more harm than good, and past this point the medicine turns into a poison! One teaspoon, once a week, never more... Swear!"

"I swear..." Victoria said, still visibly unenthusiastic. It was not like Diego would accept to climb back to her bedroom again anyway, even if he gulped down a whole jug of this tea! And even if she made him drink a dose of it, perhaps it would then simply benefit another woman in Los Angeles or its surroundings! She sighed, wondering who would be the lucky girl...

"You don't seem very convinced, Señorita," Merry-Spring told her. "Strong-Alder, and his mother before him, has been giving this herbal mix to several couples of our tribe over the years. I assure you it works! Tested and approved, first-hand experience!" she added with a knowing wink.

_First-hand...?_ a surprised Victoria wondered.

_...Strong-Alder...?_ Really? Such a robust and physically impressive fellow, such a sturdy man in the full-strength of his thirties! If a vigorous and healthy still young man like Strong-Alder could sometimes have this kind of... problem, then it really could happen to just anyone, Victoria thought. She regretted that Diego wasn't here to hear that, he'd certainly feel much better. Especially considering that Strong-Alder and Merry-Spring had four children, with the youngest one born only a few months earlier!

So Victoria left the hut with a small ray of hope in her heart, despite the circumstances: admittedly she still didn't have any answer as to her doubts about her own fertility, but if she managed to tell a certain very dear friend of hers about Strong-Alder's slight trouble – under the seal of secrecy of course – then perhaps he would stop feeling that bad about himself, after all.

...and perhaps, who knows... perhaps she would even get Diego back!

With a spring in her step, Victoria walked back to her cart and climbed back into it.


	122. Ch 122 - The secret cave

After four days in Santa Paula, Diego threw in the towel. Only momentarily, though. Admittedly he had finally come across a cart coming from Santa Barbara loaded with ten jute sacks of flour on top of many more sacks filled with sand. So it all came from further than Santa Paula itself.

But for the moment Diego didn't have time to investigate further north: he had found an excuse for only a couple of days and his father would find it either really suspicious or downright 'devil-may-care' if he simply sent him a letter explaining that just like that, on a whim, he had suddenly felt the compelling need to ride to Monterey for a month-long stay there. Just during Leonor's stay in Los Angeles! His father would think he was snubbing his half-sister. _Everyone_ would think that! Victoria may think that too. And worst of all, Leonor herself might think that!

No. There were priorities. For years he had put duty above personal interest, Zorro's fight above Diego's private life, his crusade above starting his own family, above his father's opinion on him. It finally turned out that he couldn't start a family anyway, and now his father had probably given up on his hopes for a son who would live up to his earlier expectations, but Diego refused to let Zorro's self-imposed obligations damage his still budding relationship with his baby sister.

On the fifth day, he hit the road back to Los Angeles.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

At the end of the afternoon Diego reached the surroundings of Los Angeles; in less than one hour, give or take, he'd be home. Suddenly, he spotted a cloud of dust on the horizon. He urged his horse to get closer, then slowed it down when he saw what caused it: two carts, loaded with sacks.

...Why not...? Why not furthering his investigations here?

Diego pulled on the reins of his horse and led it behind some boulders a dozen yards away from the road to discreetly change into Zorro's clothes. He grumbled inwardly: why on earth did he put it at the bottom of his travel bag? And his whip! What did he do with his whip? Ah, yes, under the saddle...

Grrr... by the time he is dressed and ready, the carts would be far away! While searching his bag for his black shirt and trousers, Diego peeked over the boulder to keep an eye on his target, but to his utmost surprise he saw the convoy stop and take a turn on a side path through the hill. What was that, now?

From his improvised lookout, Diego watched them: they disappeared behind rocks, and he had to choose between getting changed into Zorro's guise at the risk of losing sight of them, or discreetly following them as himself. After a second of hesitation, he opted for this last solution.

A few minutes later as he was silently approaching the rocks behind which the carts had disappeared, Diego heard the wheels squeal a bit and men's voices talk. He swiftly hid behind a nearby bush.

"How far, now?" a croaky voice asked.

"Roughly one hour from here to the next pueblo," a stronger one answered.

The carts emerged from behind the rocks and took the bumpy path back to the dusty road again.

"Ffff... I'm knackered!" the first man said as he was erasing the tracks left by the wheels and horses with a leafy branch. "Do you really think it was necessary to carry fill all these bags with gravel and sand?"

"Of course, if we arrive with only a couple of sacks in our carts people will find it strange... and we need them to think that there is grain... otherwise they would panic and start stockpiling!"

"All right, all right," the first man grudgingly admitted.

"Did you camouflage the entrance of the cave correctly enough?"

"Yes, yes," the other one wearily answered, "don't worry: no one will think there is a cave behind the boughs, unless they _already_ know there is a cave there."

 _A cave?_ Diego thought. Interesting. He was very well placed to know that caves were usually used as ideal hiding places. The question now was: to hide what?

Instead of following the men – after all, thanks to their earlier conversation he already knew they were heading to Los Angeles – Diego chose to look for this cave, and for what was hidden inside. Something that was transported from one point to another under the guise of wheat or flour, in coarse jute bags. Clever. What could that be? Silver nuggets? Gold items? Stolen goods? Money?

...Weapons? Gunpowder?

Once the carts were on the road again, Diego went out of hiding and walked to the rocks. There, the path was turning to the left around a rock-forming. Remembering the men's words, he looked for what could look like a fake bush or a mass of green foliage against the rocky face. And sure enough, after a minute or so he found it. Pulling it apart, Diego discovered a small cave behind it. It was not very large, but deep enough for two or three horses to fit inside in single file and wide enough for them to fit in there side by side.

Diego fully cleared the entrance in order to let the sun flood the inside of the cave with light and he stepped in. Indeed, there were piled gunnysacks, against the stony wall.

He touched one of these: nothing steely hard or angular like weapons or goldsmithery. In fact it could very well be powder, just like the flour it had been supposed to be. His fears seemed then to be confirmed: gunpowder. He touched another bag: the content of this one was more grainy, like small beads, very much like real grain itself, in fact. Pearls? No, such a large quantity of it would be really priceless. Impossible.

Rather bullets, then, Diego thought with horror. Gunpowder and bullets. In rather large quantities: there were a good fifty gunnysacks in this cave! Was someone preparing for a war? A coup? An overthrow? A putsch?

And _who?_

Someone who was acting not only around Los Angeles, Diego thought, but also around Santa Paula and even Northern from there. All the way back to Monterey, perhaps?

Diego needed to be sure. He took his pocket knife out of his jacket and stabbed at the first bag. Through the half-an-inch long hole spilled a very thin milky-white powder.

 _White?_ Not gunpowder, then... Diego smelled it: nothing. He prudently tasted it: in fact, it tasted not much either. Diego frowned: in fact, it tasted very much like... _flour?_

What was that?

He opened another sack: instead of the expected bullets, through the slit in the coarse material spilled what looked like seeds. _Grain!_

Diego even bit one of it to be sure. Yes, it was indeed wheat.

This time he was more than puzzled. Perhaps the sacks on the top were just a ruse meant to trick people, hiding the real thing? He took his knife again. After verifying a good dozen bags here and there, on top, at the bottom, on the right side, on the left one, at the front or on the contrary hidden against the stony wall, he had to admit that his earlier suspicions were wrong: no gunpowder, no weapons, no bullets.

But at least he now knew where was the grain and flour that never reached the pueblo lately!

So, someone was misappropriating grain along its conveyance from the North... obviously to speculate on it, Diego couldn't think of any other reason. The shortage would make the prices rise, and then he could sell what he had 'collected' and stored with a pretty profit and added value.

But... but on second thought there was a big flaw in this carefully elaborated plan: as soon as more goods would be on the market, it would automatically make the prices slump again! So was there really an interest in all this? Diego reluctantly thought that perhaps he should write to Doña Araceli and ask for her opinion on the matter... after all, she was a specialist in this area!

But perhaps money was not the motive for this traffic? Perhaps the goods were intended for someone else, somewhere else?

Weird.

Diego sighed heavily and decided to hide the cave again, so that for the moment no one could notice that the hiding place had been discovered... He'd decide later what the best course of action seemed to be.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Over the last miles before he reached Los Angeles, Diego thought about what would be the best course of action: follow the men? But with his luck they were in for a long trip and he couldn't really find an excuse not to go home before three or perhaps four more days... or maybe even one more week!

And what about this stock? Around Los Angeles, so many farmers lacked grain for the season to come! He couldn't leave these stolen goods to whatever bandit or speculator took it away from the legal market and from the people who needed it!

He looked at the sun: it was already the evening. And everyone thought he was still in Santa Paula, so he could hide in his own cave and then go back there at night without having to find an excuse to disappear for a few hours. He'd take Felipe with him and the both of them would empty the hiding place and hide the flour and grain elsewhere, before they find what to do with it and make good use of it.

And then the next day he'd simply have to ostensibly and conspicuously turn up in the pueblo or at the hacienda as tough he was just arriving from Santa Paula.

Yes, it would gain him some time before deciding what to do with the stolen goods he had just found.


	123. Ch 123 - The wet shirts

Home, finally!

Diego had lead his mount through the secret entrance of his cave and the first thing he did after dismounting was to go to Tornado's stall and pat his faithful stallion.

"I've missed you old boy... And you? Did you miss me?"

Tornado shook his head.

"Oh, you ingrate!" Diego gently scolded him.

Tornado shook his head again.

"What... are you jealous of Esperanza here?" he asked, pointing at his mount behind his back. "I know, I know, you resent me for not coming to see you and groom you for several days, but I wasn't there!"

Tornado blew air through his nose.

"I see... you've always preferred when Felipe is the one taking care of you like these past days, anyway... You've always had a sweet spot for this boy," Diego said with a chuckle. "Just like my sister, by the way!" he added, patting the stallion's black mane with an amused note in his voice.

Then he stretched and lied down in the hay for what he intended to be a short nap.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_Uh?_

"Hmm... No, please, mi querida," Diego growled in a barely audible murmur as Victoria was gently shaking his arm, "not so soon, I'm sleepy!"

But next thing he knew, something seized his shoulder and shook it energetically.

Diego woke up with a start and grabbed the thing that had been shaking him. He bolted up in a sitting position and opened his eyes.

"Felipe?"

The boy nodded, then pointedly looked at his own wrist: it was precisely what Diego had been crushing in his grip.

"Oh, sorry," he said, releasing it as Felipe was making a few moves with his hand to alleviate the pain caused by Diego's vice-like grip. The look on his face showed that he didn't resent him for his involuntary reaction, though, and that he was glad to see him back.

On the other hand Diego, however happy to see Felipe again, didn't like much being surprised in his sleep and woken up in the middle of it. Especially when he had just been dreaming that he was in Victoria's bed, lulled and appeased by the regular sound of her breathing. Waking up on the hay of Tornado's litter in their cave was a bit less sweet and pleasant than the wonderful recollection of his past liaison with the great love of his life. And come to think of that, did he just mistake the sound of Tornado's breathing for Victoria's? _Ugh!_ He liked his horse very much, yes, but still...

But as soon as his eyes focused enough on the details around him Diego noticed that Felipe's other arm was in a sling.

"What happened to you?" he asked, suddenly worried. "Are you all right?"

Felipe made an appeasing gesture, but he was greatly impeded by the fact that he had only one valid arm left to 'speak'. He tried to explain anyway.

"You fell?"

Felipe nodded. Then he raised his free hand to his forehead and made a horn with one finger.

"A bull?" Diego asked, horrified.

Felipe shook his head, then still with one hand he milked an imaginary udder.

"A cow?"

And with some trouble, Diego followed Felipe's one-handed explanation of what happened on the day he left: Leonor insisted on accompanying her father's herd through the Spring pastures with the vaqueros, he refused arguing that she would disturb and bother these men who had enough to do with the cows without having to watch her, and that this could be dangerous. Leonor disobeyed and sneaked in the stockyard before they left, the herd started to move and she fell to the ground as the cows went on moving without paying any attention to her. She shouted, Felipe heard her and looked, he spotted the girl on the ground between the legs of the animals and he plunged in the middle of the stockyard to take her out of harm's way. But he was knocked over by a cow and landed badly on his arm. He managed to grab Leonor anyway and weaved his way out of the herd to safer grounds with the quivering and shocked child in his arms, clinging to him for dear life.

Everyone was incredibly relieved, Felipe pretended he saw Leonor fall rather than heard her terrified shout, and Don Alejandro – white as a sheet – wrapped his daughter in his arms and held her tight for a whole minute. Only then did Felipe realise that his arm was very painful, and the old man checked on him. One of the vaqueros tended to him while an incensed Don Alejandro turned a face red with anger to his daughter: he gave her an earful and sentenced her to a two-whole-days punishment of reclusion in her bedroom to think about the consequences of her disobedience. Leonor was sobbing and in tears, and her father had to swear to her that he still loved her anyway before she complied and resigned herself to her penance.

Ever since she was allowed out of her bedroom, the child had been extra considerate and overattentive to Felipe: she apologised profusely, asked him ten times a day if he needed anything, brought him tons of drawings, offered to cut his meat during meals and was even doing all sorts of chores for him now for as long as he couldn't use his arm. The only chores he couldn't delegate to anyone were the ones revolving around Zorro's cave and Tornado's care.

"And in spite of your wounded arm, you did a fine job with him!" Diego concluded. "I'm afraid he now resents me for not being there for you these past few days..." he added with a wink and another pat at Tornado's neck.

But this new development considerably complicated things: with his arm in a sling, Felipe wouldn't be able to help him move the sacks... Yet if Diego told him about this coming mission for Zorro, the young man would insist on coming and give a hand, despite his current condition: Felipe was always so eager to help!

And sure enough, he just asked him the results of his trip and investigation in Santa Paula.

"Tomorrow, Felipe," Diego eluded with a yawn. "Right now I'm completely knackered. Please don't tell anyone I'm home: Father would insist on my presence at dinner and then drone on and on about how I'm wasting my time with 'pointless science' instead of looking for a wife or trying to improve my poor fencing skills, and I'm really, really in no mood for that. In fact I'd gladly have another nap before going to my bedroom for good once everyone else here is asleep."

With his free hand, Felipe made the gesture of bringing food to his mouth.

"Oh, yes, I'd gladly have something to eat before going to sleep: I'm starving!"

Felipe winked and told him that he'd bring him some food.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Diego sighed while munching on the bread and cheese Felipe had brought it: alone, it would take him the whole night to move the sacks one by one and relocate these to another hiding place... Especially considering the one-hour ride to there, and another one hour ride to come back to bed!

And suddenly, Diego smiled as he grabbed an apple: he just had an interesting idea: why not have de Soto's soldiers do all the hard work in his place? After all, and if everyone in Los Angeles knew that the alcalde had the missing goods, de Soto would be forced to distribute it to the people instead of keeping it for himself, unless he really wanted the farmers, the baker, the miller, and roughly everyone else in the pueblo to attack the cuartel!

With a grin on his face Diego grabbed a piece of paper and started drawing a map. Then he got changed into the Fox's outfit: after all, Don Diego de la Vega was still supposed to be away, and it was time for the Fox to go give his respects to the alcalde in his own way! After more than a week, de Soto might think that Zorro too was out of town and therefore feel free to abuse the people of his pueblo... Well, Diego was about to disillusion him!

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Victoria was sweeping the wooden floor of her porch with a smile on her lips: she just heard Don Carlos Ocaña conversationally tell other clients in her tavern that he had spotted Don Diego ride on the way to the de la Vega hacienda, even though the latter didn't see him.

"...probably just come back from his trip to Santa Paula," Don Carlos concluded.

"Are you sure it was him?" Don Virgilio asked.

"I recognised not only his stature and his blue suit, but also his mare. And he didn't pay attention to me: probably still his head in the clouds... Which better proof that it was indeed him than this one?" he ended with a gentle jest.

Victoria smiled: she knew it was a good-natured joke from Don Carlos: the man didn't have a mean bone in him, and he was rather fond of gentle and sweet Don Diego.

"He probably went straight to bed after this exhausting ride," Don Virgilio commented far less kindly than Don Carlos.

"It is indeed a tiring trip," Victoria couldn't help but say to stand up for the Diego who wasn't here to speak for himself. Not that he would have done so, though, even if he'd been there.

"And we all know how young de la Vega hates any remotely tiring activity..." de Soto said before he finished his drink.

 _Not every tiring activity,_ Victoria thought with a nostalgic smile... immediately followed by a sigh of regret: he had called an end to it, unfortunately. Was he finding her too 'exhausting'?

Dinnertime was now over for most people in the pueblo and they were making the most of the last half-an hour of daylight before the night to attend to the last chores of the day or get ahead with the day after's ones: while Victoria was sweeping her porch some people went to the well to take some water for the next morning's ablutions, the blacksmith was cleaning his tools, the baker was closing his shop, and young men were regretfully but seemly wishing their novias a good night under watchful supervision of some appointed chaperones. An evening like any other in Los Angeles.

"Alcalde!" a man's voice strongly called from... from _above?_

De Soto's eyes, as well as many others', rose to the roof of the tavern. Here, against the pink and purple hues taken by the sky in the setting sun, a pitch dark tall human figure was standing out. Victoria's heart leaped in her chest, immediately followed by a feeling of... uneasiness? Or was it even culpability? Indeed, she reflected, she hadn't thought about him for several days in a row. At all. Ever since Don Diego left for Santa Paula, in fact. Did she spend so much time thinking about Diego's absence that she forgot about her masked love, and his breakup with her?

"Sergeant!" de Soto called as soon as he recognised the outlaw, get your soldiers ready on the plaza, immediately!"

"That's a good idea, alcalde," Zorro replied, "because I had just come here with a mission for your men. You're pre-empting my query I see, how thoughtful of you..."

Incensed at Zorro's taunting, de Soto didn't pay much attention to his words and ordered his men to shoot at him. Zorro dodged the first volley of shots by disappearing behind the chimney. Then while the soldiers were reloading their muskets, he went out of hiding and told de Soto:

"Alcalde, that's neither kind nor wise to try to kill me when I've come here to help you find the grain and flour your pueblo is beginning to lack of..."

Pleased murmurs rose from people on the plaza, even from the soldiers there. _Wheat!_ Zorro had found _wheat!_

"Yes, Señoras y Señores," Zorro then told them, "tomorrow our brave soldiers will bring back flour and grain that our dear alcalde here will be more than happy to distribute equitably to you Los Angelinos, rather than keeping it for the sole use of his garrison!"

A round of 'hurrays' welcomed Zorro's announce just as he dodged another volley of bullets behind Victoria's chimney. When he reappeared, the outlaw threw a small ball at de Soto. When he picked it up, the alcalde saw that it was in fact no ball, but a crumpled leaf of paper.

"Alcalde, you'll find here a map of the place the grain is currently hidden. And don't try to cheat the people of Los Angeles: there are exactly forty-eight sacks in there, I've counted them. Make sure they will all reach the pueblo and be distributed between its inhabitants!"

For a split second, Zorro's gaze from above met Victoria's down there on ground level, and he froze slightly. But just after, she saw him glance at the soldiers on the plaza and he suddenly leaped down from the roof on the wooden floor of the ground, not very far from her, just as a third round of gunshots blasted out.

Zorro whistled, probably for his horse, and sure enough Tornado soon rushed in. The stallion even almost knocked Elvira Duarte down on his way. The young seamstress leaped to the side to avoid being run over by the horse, and in doing so she collided with Zorro's chest; or rather, the bucket of water she had been carrying against her bosom collided with Zorro's chest, soaking his black shirt.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Señor Zorro," the girl apologised.

"No harm done, Señorita," a dripping Zorro gallantly replied. "It's only water, it will dry. I'm the one who has to apologise for my horse... I hope you are unharmed..."

But Elvira didn't answer, and Victoria didn't like at all the way she was ogling at Zorro's chest. Alright, alright, the wet material of his shirt was clinging to his skin and hugging his pectoral muscles nicely, but couldn't she stare anywhere else, really?

And come to think of that, the water drenched the young seamstress's blouse too, and now not much of her own bosom was hidden from everyone's view either. Victoria hoped that Zorro wouldn't notice. And that this girl would finally tear her gaze away from Zorro's chest and wet-through shirt.

And by the way, couldn't she also take a step back from him, really? She was standing in the way!

Fortunately, before the soldiers could take hold of him or reload their guns, the outlaw leaped in the saddle and urged his stallion away from the pueblo. With a sigh of relief, Victoria looked at the dark figure of her former intended disappearing in the setting sun, while Elvira rushed back home to get changed before every man in the pueblo could feast his eyes on her now barely hidden young and firm breasts.


	124. Ch 124 - What to do with the grain?

A few hours after he got home – or rather after he got back to his cave and collapsed on the hay of Tornado's stall – Diego was woken up by a pleasant smell. He opened his eyes and saw Felipe's face. With his free hand the young man pointed at a tray he had put down just beside Diego. Breakfast! That was what smelled so good...

"Muchas gracias, Felipe. How considerate! But how did you manage to bring this tray here, with your arm in a sling?"

Felipe grinned and raised his free arm, holding an imaginary tray like a professional waiter.

"Congratulations! How deft! I see you took a leaf out of Victoria's book... Perhaps you'd even be able to replace her at the tavern!" Diego told him with a wink. "What time is it?" he asked him as he peeled an orange.

Felipe showed his the five fingers of his free hand.

"Ow, really? It's awfully early! And you got up to prepare breakfast for me?"

That way he was sure there wouldn't be anyone in the kitchen, Felipe explained. Indeed, he would have had a hard time explaining for whom he was preparing a breakfast on a tray...

"But you had to wake up early for that," Diego said, "for _me_ ," he added. "Muchas gracias."

Felipe shrugged, and again he showed his wounded arm: he had trouble sleeping because of it anyway, so it was no real bother.

"Does it hurt? Is it still painful?"

Felipe made a face meant to mean 'a bit', which, according to how tough Diego knew the young man was, rather meant 'yes it is'.

While Diego chewed on his mouthful of bread, Felipe launched into a series of signs, but the meaning of these weren't very clear. Finally, Felipe gave up and he went to the table where he took a sheet of paper, a quill and some ink. Then he started scribbling things, and Diego read over his shoulder.

"De Soto has been searching the hacienda again?"

_No._

"Searching the... the basement? The cellar? Why the cellar?"

Not _searching_ , apparently. _Measuring_.

"Measuring?" Diego asked, very surprised.

 _Your father was very, very irritated_ , Felipe wrote. _He asked them the same question. No answer. We still don't know._

"I really don't like that, Felipe..." Diego said pensively.

Felipe shook his head: he didn't like it either.

 _And afterwards they measured the entire ground level of the hacienda too_ , he wrote.

"I don't like this, I don't like this, I don't like this," Diego murmured. "The alcalde is up to something. I can only hope he's not again plotting something against my father..."

He yawned his head off.

 _Tired?_ Felipe asked. _Not slept enough?_

If only you knew, Diego inwardly replied. Indeed it had been an even shorter night than Felipe thought, and although Felipe's attention of bringing him breakfast in the cave had been very considerate, in truth Diego wouldn't say no to a few more hours of sleep.

And in fact after Felipe got back upstairs, Diego lied back on the hay and dozed off to fully finish his night.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

The morning after, Victoria was busy with the new wine delivery she had just received when Diego entered her tavern.

 "Finally!" she teasingly welcomed him. "Glad to see you back, Don Diego, and to see that you finally remembered the way to my tavern. You got up late it seems... The ride had been exhausting I suppose. But fortunately this time, there was no ugly thunderstorm to delay you..."

"What do you mean, 'I got up late'? I've just arrived from Santa Paula!" Diego lied very convincingly.

"What?" Victoria asked, utterly surprised. "But Don Carlos saw you ride home yester–"

She couldn't finish her sentence as a clamour came from the plaza. Diego, Victoria, as well as most of the tavern's patrons rushed out to the porch to see what the racket was about.

Outside, some people were cheering, others were attempting to climb in a rolling cart of the army, while soldiers were trying to keep them at bay. The cheers turned into protests, and just as the cart entered the cuartel a gunshot was heard. People calmed down and the soldiers managed to close the door.

All heads turned to the alcalde who had fired his pistol in the air.

"Everyone here is going to keep a cool head," de Soto strongly stated. "I know you all want flour or grain, but I don't want a riot here!"

For once, Victoria thought that de Soto's words were wise.

"And now you're going to keep the goods for yourself and your soldiers!" Guillermo the blacksmith accused in a growl. "Just like Zorro said!"

While the villagers were discussing with the alcalde, Victoria quickly briefed Diego about Zorro's visit to the pueblo the night before.

"But you probably were already snoring in your bed then, after the long trip," she concluded.

"I don't snore," he retorted, "and as I told you I only got home this morning."

"What do you mean? Don Carlos spotted you and your horse on the way around the end of the afternoon..."

Diego looked at her strangely. Did he just... blanch?

"You don't have to be embarrassed about feeling tired after this long ride, Diego. Or about needing to oversleep in the morning to fully recover from it!" she kindly told him to put him at ease. "And for your information," she added in a teasing whisper, "yes you snore."

Around them, people started raising their voices as they were discussing what to do with what the soldiers found.

"Or perhaps the alcalde intends to sell it to us, making a personal profit with it!"

"Of course not," he retorted, "the profit would benefit to the garrison: many soldiers need new boots, and the stables still need a roof!"

"That's not fair!" a voice protested, "you didn't even have to pay for this grain, you shouldn't sell it!"

"And if you sell it," Victoria added, "only the richest families could buy it, even though they are not necessarily those who need it most!"

Beside her, Diego frowned. Then he took a step forth:

"Alcalde!" he called.

With his height he was standing out a good half-an-head above everyone else, and de Soto turned to him.

"Diego! You finally deign to grace the pueblo with your presence! Where have you been since you came back yesterday?"

"Ignacio," he said, deliberately ignoring his last question, "may I suggest that you give everyone in the pueblo an equal share of flour? No payment implied, of course."

A round of applause answered Diego's suggestion.

"Don't divide it by the number of families or homes in the pueblo, but more simply by the number of persons: that way everyone, rich or poor, child or adult, soldier or seamstress, man or woman, married with children or single, will have the same share as anyone else."

"Don't expect that your bastard of a half-sister will get a share of it, Don Diego," a male voice said from among the crowd, "she is not from Los Angeles, even though she is currently staying there!"

Many people approved, stating that if the girl needed bread, she'd just have to go back to San Diego and not eat the Los Angelinos' bread.

Victoria saw Diego's shoulders tense, but he chose to ignore the pointless interruptions.

"And what about the grain?" the miller asked.

"Let's divide it equally between all the farmers and haciendados," Diego suggested.

"Yes," one of his father's friends approved, "in direct ratio to the size of their land."

Many protests rose.

"No," Diego said, "or the richest ones would always be the better served, with this manner of doing! No alcalde: give every farmer, be it a poor peón or a rich haciendado, the exact same share of grain."

Many farmers cheered on the plaza, and Victoria smiled: it was always nice to see Diego get some appreciation from people, it was such a rare occurrence!

Alcalde de Soto, though, looked at him rather suspiciously. His eyes narrowed, and Victoria had the very clear impression that he was thinking hard about Diego.

"Don Diego..." he finally let out in a drawling voice, "you seem to have done much and much thinking about what to do with this flour and grain which you are supposed to have heard of only two minutes ago..."

He paused and pensively stroked his goatee, his eyes never leaving Diego's face.

"But in fact," he went on looking intently at him, "yesterday afternoon you were roughly where the sacks were hidden... Don't even think denying that, Ocaña saw you, even though you didn't see him!"

"Ignacio, that's ridi–"

The alcalde cut him short by pulling a creased sheet of paper out of his breast pocket and brandishing it under Diego's nose.

"According to Don Carlos, you were very near from this place," he said pointing at a spot on the map, "two hours before sunset. And surprise, surprise! Two hours later, Zorro shows up here to tell us exactly where the plunder is. Aaaand..." he added, "you just tried to make people here believe that you arrived from Santa Paula only this morning..."

Victoria frowned. Indeed he pretended so. Why did he lie to her?

"Diego de la Vega," de Soto said as he pointed an accusing finger at him, "you're in league with the outlaw Zorro! Sergeant, Corporal! Arrest Don Diego!"

_What???_

"Ignacio, that's totally ridiculous," Diego protested.

"Ridiculous? Really?" the alcalde rhetorically asked. "Then tell us where you were during the last two hours before downfall... And a mere 'I was riding alone on the road' won't do, Diego. If you can't produce a witness, then we won't believe you!"

Victoria noticed how Diego tensed. He was about to say something when de Soto stated:

"I can tell you what you did in the two hours before sunset: you rode back to Los Angeles, went to see Zorro and the two of you plotted yesterday night's visit in the pueblo. Perhaps you were even just there, outside the pueblo, watching over his horse until he whistled for it! You know exactly _who_ Zorro is, Diego... And in fact I even think you and your father help him hide from time to time...Why not in a secret room behind a hidden door in the cellar under your hacienda? That would explain why the floor area of your basement is smaller than the house built over it: according to the measures, it stops roughly underneath your library..."

"You have a very vivid imagination, Ignacio..." Diego coldly retorted with carefully suppressed anger. Victoria noticed that her normally calm and very collected friend was now clenching his slightly shaking fists.

"Then prove me wrong and tell me who can attest that you were elsewhere than with Zorro or his horse during the last hour of daylight until sunset yesterday."

Diego's jaw clearly tensed, and he finally opened his mouth to apparently say something; but before he uttered the first syllabus of whatever he had been about to say a female voice, veiled but determined, came from the crowd and rushed out the words:

"He was with me."

With his mouth still half-open Diego turned to the voice, and he was not the only one to do so. All eyes on the plaza settled on Elvira Duarte, the young seamstress.


	125. Ch 125 - The lame excuse

Diego was stunned. _What... why?_ What had gotten into this girl's mind? Why did she say that?

He stared at her, incredulous. And he was not the only one. Every pair of eyes on the plaza was now like magnetically drawn to the girl's slightly rosy face.

"What?" de Soto involuntarily burst out at Elvira. "What are you... What did you say?" he asked in an almost strangled voice.

The silence was so thick on the plaza that even a butterfly alighting on a flower could have been heard.

Elvira visibly took a deep breath, and although she obviously would have rather been anywhere else, she answered in a slightly quivering voice:

"Don Diego wasn't anywhere near Zorro or just outside the pueblo during the last hour of daylight yesterday, because he was in fact with me."

Like a wave on the seashore, a buzzing sound of indistinct and blended murmurs swelled and grew louder. Diego didn't really caught what they were saying though, stupefied as he was by Elvira's statement.

"Don Diego...? With you?" de Soto asked her again.

She looked him straight in the eyes and gave a short but sharp nod.

"Yes," she simply answered in her usual veiled and soft voice.

And she nibbled on her lower lip. Diego frowned. What was this fable?

But soon, people around him shot snide and pointed looks at him, as well as at Elvira. Comments started to buzz and fizz again, and over the general babble Diego caught a male voice state "like father, like son!" while a female one commented that "the apple didn't fall that far from the tree, after all!"

Elvira got her share of disparaging comments too, but Ignacio de Soto didn't seem totally convinced.

Diego didn't know how to react. He tried to meet the young girl's eyes with his, but she obstinately avoided his look and settled her gaze on de Soto's uniform. Sewed by her mother, he remembered out of the blue.

"Señorita..." the alcalde then slowly said, "I admit I have trouble imagining that you, a wise, well-behaved, hard-working and proper young girl, would agree to a secret tryst with a confirmed and inveterate much older bachelor!"

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Hearing how de Soto stated this last sentence made Victoria reflect on her own recent relationship with Diego, by an interesting mirror effect. The way he was implicitly describing as easy, lazy and of questionable morals any woman who'd have a relationship with Diego de la Vega was in fact very unflattering.

But that was not the main point, right now, and anyway she was currently beset by too many overwhelming and conflicted feelings to dwell too long on Ignacio de Soto's opinion. She was hoping with all her might that she heard wrong what the girl just said. _Twice_. Diego and Elvira Duarte? That couldn't be! That couldn't... right?

"There has been no tryst," Diego stated.

And Victoria wanted, really wanted to believe him. But why, why couldn't a small part of her fully believe this? Perhaps because he was a nice, attractive – and rich! – man, as well as a capable and considerate lover... And Victoria suddenly felt a rush of very unpleasant something toward Elvira Duarte. Not that she truly wished her any ill, no... but for a split second she clearly didn't wish her any good either!

"Don Diego is right," a red-faced Elvira said just as Diego had been about to add something, "it was not a tryst. He came only to place an order for a new shirt," she explained.

"First thing once back from Santa Paula?" de Soto asked, clearly doubtful. "It's not like he doesn't have a stitch to wear..."

"I ruined one there: I spilled some chemical on it so I immediately washed it, Diego immediately mde up, "but when I took it out of the basin after the laundry, where the smear had previously been there were only big holes left."

Victoria had trouble fully buying this version.

"It doesn't explain why you told me you came back only this morning: you wouldn't lie if you had nothing to hide!" she couldn't help but tell him.

Diego looked at her like she had just stabbed him in the back. _That was rich!_ she thought. _He_ was the one who was flirting with a young girl just after he ditched her, after all.

"After I measured him up," Elvira went on in her thready voice, "we went to the storeroom to choose the fabric for his shirt. Once it was done, only then did we notice how late it was! And I realised that if anyone was noticing that he had stayed here so late with me, people would immediately get the wrong idea about it all... I panicked and asked him to wait half-an-hour until it was dark before he leaved to go home, so that no one would spot him get out."

"And you hope we'll believe that nothing else happened between the two of you?" a female voice asked, dripping with disbelief. "That Don Diego rushed to you first thing once back from travel just to place an order?"

Elvira went beet-red, but she couldn't find anything to say.

"I swear that nothing even remotely improper ever happened between Señorita Duarte and me..." Diego stated loud and clear.

Victoria wanted to believe him. She really wanted to. But...

"And your mother surely can attest of that of course, Señorita..." an insidious male voice said.

Victoria turned to it: it was Guillermo Muñoz, the blacksmith. Elvira closed her eyes and sighed.

"No..." she replied, "she went to lie down in bed in the middle of the afternoon because of her backache, and she stayed there till this morning."

"How convenient," Corporal Sepulveda said.

"Not for her, Corporal" Elvira retorted.

"Perhaps one of your siblings could then confirm that Don Diego was here only on business matters and for no other reason?"

"We had sent the children to bed early," Elvira replied, "and my other siblings... well, Mother lets us free to come and go until sunset, and I cannot sew, keep an eye on everyone and fetch the water at the fountain all at the same time!"

And indeed, the night before just before Zorro appeared Victoria had spotted Clara, Elvira's seventeen-years-old sister, bid good night to her beau under the close supervision of the young man's mother.

"And so..." a man's voice said from among the crowd, "you made the most of being alone at home and made Don Diego come under a false pretext..."

"No!" she protested.

"No, absolutely not," Diego echoed. "How would have she even known I was on my way back to Los Angeles!"

He looked sincerely pained by the barely veiled allusion and accusation, but Victoria had to admit that his and Elvira's cover story was one of the lamest excuse she had ever heard.

Diego and Elvira... Elvira and Diego... Diego and _anyone_... _!_

...Anyone else than _herself_...

_Elvira Duarte and Diego!_

Victoria felt a lump swell in her throat as well as something cold unpleasantly spread in her stomach and disagreeably tickle the inner walls of it...

All things considered, Victoria wondered whether she didn't prefer when Elvira was leering at Zorro's pecs, after all.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

 _Why... why why why?_ Diego thought.

Why did Elvira provide him with an alibi? And why was she being so insistent on it? Diego then remembered that his family had helped hers a few months earlier, when the alcalde had tried to unfairly tax them... so Elvira was certainly being grateful for it to the de la Vegas, but still... Going so far as to let her reputation be compromised!

Another thought then occurred to Diego: when her mother had been charged with unjust late penalties by de Soto, Elvira had come to _him_ , had asked for speaking to _him_ rather to his father... So... Did she... Was she... was she having a _crush_ on him?

That would explain why she was so insistent on providing him with an alibi and clear him from de Soto's accusations.

And...

Diego frowned: perhaps that would also explain why the idea of marring her reputation _with him_ didn't bother her too much? He made a face: the thought was making him rather uneasy. Would she expect something in return?

Then a panicked horror briefly set his heartbeat racing: _ow_ , right now Señora Duarte was still staying at home due to her backache, it seemed, but she'd soon hear about the scene currently taking place on the plaza... and then... What if Teresa Duarte demanded that he _married_ her daughter, in order to right his wrongs or at least to salvage her reputation?

For a couple of seconds, he felt his face grow cold and a bit numb as blood left his cheeks. Oh please God, not _that!_ And what if his father hears of that too? No, not 'if', he corrected: _'when'_. In such a small community there was no chance that he didn't hear about the newest juicy gossip about his son! And if he didn't, then someone – Muñoz the blacksmith, Don Virgilio, the miller, one of his tenant farmers or someone else – would be far too glad to be the one telling him with a fake commiserative look on their face, of course. But his father wouldn't truly believe anything happened between the girl and him, right?

And then another concern crossed his mind: along the past months Diego had noticed how Señora Duarte had warmed to his father after her original strong disapproval of his past with Doña Araceli. The fact that Don Alejandro had helped her resist de Soto's bullying and provided her with work probably helped too. As well as Leonor's natural endearing charm of course. After that, Don Alejandro and the seamstress had been talking with each other more than ever before... Yes, Diego now expected that the two widowers would grow closer and who knows...?

Of course his hopes were only motivated by his concern for his father and his wish to see him happy. With a woman who despite her social background matched him rather well. Better than a certain young woman living far away, for instance. Yes, it had everything to do with his father's happiness, and absolutely nothing with Araceli Ximénez de Valdès of course! Right?

But come to think of that... well, admittedly Teresa Duarte was still much younger than his father, but only by a dozen years and not twice as much! And another very good point for her was of course that she was _truly_ widowed! Widowed of a very dead husband, and not of some still living husband hiding somewhere in California – or even further.

Yes, on paper it looked like a good match. But now that despite his and Elvira's denials the whole pueblo probably thought that the young seamstress and the pueblo's most notorious idler were flirting... if not already more... then the outcome Diego hoped for could fall through, or perhaps even turn sour!

He sighed. How ironic! For months and months he had been sleeping with Victoria right under the villagers' nose, only a few yards away from the pueblo's plaza, and he was never caught – well, yes, only once but not even by a villager, only by Strong-Alder – no one even suspected anything! And now everyone was probably convinced that he and Elvira Duarte had been having a secret affair, on the sole basis of one hour allegedly spend under her roof just before sunset!

The world was crazy.

The only way to counter these gossips would be to completely deny his presence there with Elvira. And ruin the alibi she had just made out to save his neck and pull him out of the very serious predicament the alcalde's suspicions had been about to put him in. And in order to deny Elvira' version, he'd have to provide an explanation as to where he truly was, and like de Soto stated, no one would believe a mere 'riding alone on the road back from Santa Paula' assertion. In other words, denying Elvira's version for good would imply explaining why he didn't immediately say where he really was, which would imply confessing where he truly was.

There seemed to be no way out of the gossip except publicly admitting his secret. And consequently die at the end of a rope...

Diego let out a disabused sigh: the irony of it all! People were always so keen on thinking the juiciest of any situation that once the idea of a hypothetic romance had germinated in their minds, not for one second did they believe that he could have gone to the seamstress's and spent time there just to order clothes and be measured, or for a mere fitting. People's thirst for drama or scandal was pathetic. But on the other hand it just saved him from the gallows!

For how long, though...? De Soto had been on a rather good track until Elvira diverted him from it.

But what of Elvira's reputation in this all? Would he have to marry her? Did she _expect_ him to marry her? Was this her interest in that? Was she a bit sweet on him? Or not? And if not... did she just find a way to hook the pueblo's best – and richest – match?

A feeling of dread seized him. And what did Victoria think of it all? She wouldn't believe the gossips of course, right? He tried to meet her eyes but she was staring at Elvira. Who was intently watching the tip of her shoes or the dirt of the plaza. People had finally started to scatter and most people settled their attention back to more important issues, like the distribution of flour or grain: when would it take place? How big would be each one's share? Who would supervise everything?

Diego's concern, though, was still revolving around Elvira's motives and intentions. He needed to know.

He took a few steps closer to her and discreetly grabbed her elbow, but he quickly released it when he spotted Corporal Sepulveda and Padre Benitez look at them: no need to fuel the rumour. Anyway he already had Elvira's attention now.

"Why...? Why did you tell them that?" he whispered. "We both know I wasn't anywhere near your mother's storeroom yesterday around sunset."

She raised her dark eyes to his face and looked at him intently.

"I know my work, Don Diego," she simply replied in her soft voice, made even lower by her murmur. "I can recognise a shirt I've made only a few days earlier, even after it had been dyed in black..."

Diego's heart skipped a beat. After a stunned second he swallowed hard. He hadn't expected that. Not at all. Dread turned into panic but he didn't let it show and managed to calm down and appear collected. He watched her face: for a split second he had thought about denying everything, but by the look on it he soon understood it would be to no avail. And better not offend her intelligence in doing so. She was looking dead serious.

Now, what would be the price she'd ask for her silence? Because she compromised her reputation for a reason that was worth it, right?

"All right," he stated still in a whisper, "let's not beat around the bush, then. Why did you help me? What do you... want from me?"

It was her turn to look surprised. Bewilderment seized her features, but then the real meaning behind Diego's words seemed to dawn on her and her face relaxed. And then she frowned again, at Diego's suspicion this time. She shook her head.

"Just try to stay away from the gallows," she murmured, "and don't get yourself killed."

Then she nodded, finally let the ghost of a smile graze her lips, and she spun on her heels to walk back home.


	126. Ch 126 - The doms and twists of fate

As soon as he crossed the threshold of his father's hacienda, Diego was assailed by sixty pounds of overexcited little girl who launched herself at him and clasped his middle tightly.

"Diego! You're back!" she joyfully shouted.

"Yes," he said, ruffling her unruly dark hair, "didn't Papá tell you so when you came back from the hills with Felipe this morning?"

"Yes he did," Leonor answered, "but it is still good to have you here in flesh and bone," she added, tightening her hold on him.

Diego smiled sweetly and bent to drop a kiss on the top of his sister's head.

"I missed you too, mi cariño," he told her.

"Really? For sure?" she asked, a little bit unsure. "I was afraid that you wanted to spend a few days away from me..."

These words immediately wiped Diego's smile from his lips.

"Absolutely not, Leonor. I swear." He tried to gently unclasp his sister's hands from behind his back. "Look at me..." he said softly. "Look at me Leonor," he repeated when she resisted to his attempt.

She finally let go of him reluctantly and he crouched in front of her.

"I swear I wasn't avoiding you, cariño. I love you very much, and I love having you here at home. I just had something to do in Santa Paula at this exact moment, that's all."

"Promised?" the little girl asked in a teeny tiny voice.

"Promised. I swear."

She seemed to hesitate to believe him, but she finally nodded.

"Too bad you were still in bed when Felipe, Concepcion and I rode to the hills: Felipe showed me some of the plants you use to make your magic potions..."

"These are not magic potions, I already told you so. It is just science. Botany, pharmacy or chemistry, it depends, but absolutely not magic."

"I know, I know..." she admitted.

"I couldn't have gotten up too early, unfortunately," Diego told her. "I had gotten home from Santa Paula very late last night and I had to get enough sleep and rest after this long ride home..."

 _Here,_ Diego thought, _my first barefaced lie to Leonor... Am I eternally doomed to lie to the people I love?_

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

The inevitable couldn't be eternally postponed, and in the afternoon Don Alejandro went to the pueblo. Of course when he came back home he had heard of the latest piece of gossip in which his son was playing one of the two leading roles. He came back home rather irritated, and immediately called his son's name.

"Yes Father, I'm here," Diego said as he entered the sala. "What's happening?" he asked although he already knew exactly what it was about, or at least strongly suspected it. "What's the sudden need for shouting my name at the top of your lugs?"

"Oh, no no no, Diego," Don Alejandro told him while repeatedly poking his index finger at his son's breastbone, "don't come all innocent with me. You deliberately didn't tell me what happened this morning when you were in the pueblo..."

"Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you that the soldiers found the grain and–"

"Don't play that game with me, Diego!" Alejandro said raising his voice, clearly irritated at him. "You know fairly well that it's _not_ what I am talking about!"

He gave his son a stern look.

"Elvira Duarte," he then pointedly explained, folding his arms. "And your new burning and inappropriate romance with her. That's what half the pueblo is currently buzzing with, apart from the grain distribution of course. Don't even preten–"

"Oh, that..." Diego cut him, sounding falsely casual. "Yes, I forgot to warn you of the newest misunderstand–"

But his father held his hand to stop him.

"You didn't forget _anything_ Diego, you purposefully kept quiet about this 'detail', don't even try to tell me otherwise..."

Diego sighed.

"Father... don't tell me you believe this malicious gossip! This is just whole cloth, people simply love to embroider on purely innocent things, you know that!"

"Interesting choice of wording, Diego," Alejandro retorted, "considering that both Elvira and her mother are seamstresses."

"It's hardly the right time for puns, Father," Diego replied, rather alarmed. "I swear to you that there is absolutely nothing that sort between Elvira and me, there has never been! You have my word on that..."

Don Alejandro scrutinisingly looked at him rather seriously, then after a few seconds of keeping his son on pins and needles he shrugged.

"Of course I don't believe that this rumour is well-founded..." he finally said, to his son's utter relief. "I have never had any grounds to believe that you have a thing for Elvira, or she for you for that matter. But you have been absolutely careless. Is her version true? Didn't you pay attention to the time and let yourself be overtaken by sunset before you noticed how late it was?"

"Yes, Father, that's all that happened. I didn't know it was so late when I arrived back from Santa Paula and I decided to stop by the seamstress to place an order. Then I forgot about the time and before we realised it, it was already too late for malevolent rumourmongers not to get the wrong idea about my presence alone there with her at such an hour... So I stayed there until it was dark and then I came straight back home. You have my word that nothing improper happened."

Of course this was just like his son, Alejandro inwardly lamented: scheduleless, head-in-the-clouds Diego in his ivory tower simply forgot about the time. And about young girls' reputations in malicious people's eyes. He sighed. _Typical Diego!_

And of course there had never been anything between Elvira and him, and anyway Alejandro now knew for sure that his son was lovesick for Victoria Escalante. But for lack of having her, he wouldn't use young and guileless Elvira as a substitute, right? No, that was totally preposterous.

But unfortunately it wasn't the opinion of everyone in the pueblo, and Alejandro was having a rather clear idea of the mess his son had involuntarily gotten himself into. _And what about Señora Duarte?_ he suddenly wondered with horror. Would Teresa come to him and demand that his son did something to save Elvira's reputation? Oh, dear...

Not that Alejandro had anything against the girl, or against the idea of having her as his daughter-in-law, quite the contrary in fact... He didn't know her very well, discreet and diffident as she usually was, but she was rather nice and well-behaved. And Alejandro didn't have any reason to doubt her morals, as far as boys were concerned. Well, with such an uptight mother as hers it was no wonder, he reflected. And it would in fact prove to be... _interesting_ to share grandchildren with Teresa Duarte! But he had come to know her a bit better now and he liked this courageous woman. Then a dreamy smile suddenly grazed his lips: _grandchildren_...

He sighed. No: Diego would enter this union only reluctantly so, under duress... which generally was an awful start and ground for a marriage. Perhaps he'd even resent Elvira for it. Coercion and resentment from the very beginning was perhaps the surest way for a marriage to turn sour in the long run. Alejandro hoped that they wouldn't be driven to this extreme solution to smother the budding scandal.

 _But_ _no_ , he thought as to reassure himself: after all, he finally didn't have to marry Araceli eight years ago, although much much more happened. _Leonor_ happened, for God's sake! But on the other hand, Araceli's mother had been leaving far away and hadn't been too hard on him. And Araceli had been older, and an adult, and her own woman, and an independent widow earning a comfortable living. Not a young girl still living under her mother's roof, clearly subjected to her parental authority...

Araceli... why did he have to think about her? Why was there always something that would consistently bring her up to the forefront of his mind? He sighed and nibbled at his lower lip to better fight the unpleasant feeling constricting his heart and spreading some remaining sadness down to his stomach. He closed his eyes and let out another sigh.

Araceli... And to think that at the time he had secretly felt some unavowable relief that she chose _not_ to marry him... What an idiot he had been back then!

Or not... If Araceli had felt compelled to marry him by the circumstances, if _he_ had married her only because he thought it was his duty, would they have been able to remain good friends? Or would they rather be at loggerheads, by now? Most probably, Araceli would have separated from him like she earlier did from her late husband...

And in any case, what consequences on Leonor? On second thought, better have unmarried parents who were able to get along rather well than married parents unable to bear each other's presence... Yes, decidedly, Araceli's irruption in his life was still turning all his traditional standards upside down, Alejandro inwardly reflected not for the first time.

Araceli's... and Leonor's of course! Leonor...

Leonor... And to think that Alejandro initially thought of this unplanned child as an unexpected inconvenience, an unwelcome blow. A stroke of bad luck. A burden he'd have to take responsibility for. Leonor! His ray of sunshine! One of the best things he had ever done, on par with Diego! One of the great loves of his life!

Araceli, Leonor... Fate and life were really full of unexpected twists...

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

 _Alejandro woke up with a start from a nightmare in the middle of the night. It was still pitch dark, and his heartbeat was racing in his chest. Right by his side Araceli's regular quiet breathing sounded really lulling, and it helped him become aware of the reality around him. Slowly, intake of breath after intake of breath he calmed down and smiled. He turned to his side toward Araceli but she was sleeping with her back to him. He snaked his hand under the bedcover to slowly brush his palm and fingers first against her arm, and then further along the side then the front of her belly. Once more, he marvelled at the baby bump there, and slowly stroked and caressed again and again. A smile grew on his lips. His child..._ their _child... A miracle. He still didn't know how or when exactly it happened: he had always... done what he had to do_ on time _, or at least he thought so... Well, apparently not early enough, at least once... or it simply wasn't such a sure and foolproof method after all. Anyway now, and contrary to the first days just after he read about the announcement of his upcoming paternity, he was finally very glad it happened._

_In the dark he searched Araceli's neck with his lips and when he finally found it he dropped a featherlike kiss on the nape of it. Then he resumed his stroking moves on her belly. The upside with heavy sleepers was that you could move beside them on the bed or even touch them without having to worry about waking them._

_Araceli was there with him, and alive, and breathing to prove it. He let out a sigh of relief, but he couldn't help but think back with a shudder about the vivid dream that had just awakened him with a start: a difficult childbirth, Concepcion telling him that there was trouble with the labour, that there was some complications, that it was wearing the mother out, that her heart might not withstand it; an interminable waiting filled with dread and anguish, and then Concepcion showing up again, this time to announce that the baby was all right and healthy, that the mother had fought valiantly and courageously but that she wasn't going to make it through; that he could enter the room to say his farewells to her before...._ before _. Next thing he remembered, Alejandro was standing beside a bed, staring down at an unmoving and non-breathing dark-haired woman dressed only in a white frilly nightgown. That's exactly when he woke up. Thank God it had only been a nightmare! But he knew that this thought would now haunt him, night and day, for the four or five remaining months to come._

_He didn't want to go back to sleep right now, for fear the dream would resume where he left it. Or start over since the beginning. He kissed Araceli's neck again, listened to the regular and wonderful sound of her breathing, spread his hand wide across her baby bump and made a fervent prayer to the Lord: please, please, please, don't let anything happen to her, to them! He couldn't live with himself if... if she..._


	127. Ch 127 - Diego's ups and downs

Diego had been expecting an outburst from his father, a dressing down, or perhaps even an injunction to put things right and to very officially court Elvira Duarte. All day long he had dreaded this paternal demand and had honed his arguments against it to convince his father that nothing ever happened between the two of them, that she was far too young for him – well, on second thought and considering his father's personal record in that regard, perhaps this was not such a convincing argument to put forward, so he'd better set the topic of age gap aside after all.

Anyway and in other words, he had been preparing for convincing his father that there was nothing fishy going on between Elvira and him. Well, in truth there now was _something_ between them, in a way, but absolutely not what everyone suspected, and of course he certainly would _not_ tell his father so, or anyone for that matter: some dangerous secrets should better be kept quiet about.

Now that the expected storm with his father had surprisingly been avoided, Diego was dreading Victoria's take on this whole thorny matter.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Some of the tavern's usual patrons were beginning to get tired of the innkeeper's rather testy mood lately. For a few months they had sometimes been at the receiving end of it for... well, for what reason, really? Don Carlos vaguely traced its first manifestations back to roughly six months earlier. Around the time when the whole of Los Angeles discovered Don Alejandro's stunning secret. But also roughly around the beginning of Automn. Did it have to do with the shortening time of daylight? Less day, more night... was it having an effect on her? It didn't seem so in the previous years. But if it was only that, now that Spring was back things would improve with the lengthening days, right? But on the other hand, it should then start again with next Autumn...

Or perhaps it was not that... Did it really have to do with the revelation about Alejandro's past affair and its consequences? Admittedly Señorita Escalante had always been close to his family so it was understandable that she had felt a bit disappointed, perhaps even a bit hurt that he didn't confide in her about such an important fact; but thinking that he didn't even tell his own son about it should have put some soothing balm on this sore spot, right?

Or did it have to do with Doña Araceli herself? Don Carlos had noted that Señorita Escalante sometimes didn't seem too keen on her presence, but on other occasions the two young women had been seen talking rather cosily in the tavern, so Don Carlos was really very puzzled about it all.

And today, the innkeeper seemed to be in one of her bad hair days. He sighed: perhaps he should come back later?

When she brought him his glass and put it down on the table with a sharp 'knock' and not a word to go with it before she went straight to another table and gave Don Virgilio's glass the same treatment, he suddenly remembered that when Zorro showed up to tell the alcalde about the grain, he didn't have any word for his ladylove, didn't even bow or saluted... He simply gave her a nod, acknowledging her presence, but nothing more.

Yes, perhaps the honeymoon was over between them and they were slowly falling out of love... and of their past dreams for an impossible life together. Don Carlos wasn't sure he was sorry for her: she needed to get back in touch with the real world and to stop dreaming. So no, he couldn't get himself to be completely sorry for her... but when he remembered the rather testy way she served his drink he felt sorry for himself, and for whoever would cross path with her this morning!

He sighed and looked outside at the porch, staring at its wooden pillars. Pillars built and installed by the late Señor Duarte, he remembered.

And thinking about the deceased carpenter made him think about something else: did... did...

No, it couldn't be, right?

...Did Señorita Escalante's current mood have anything to do with the revelation of the budding idyll between young Elvira Duarte and Diego de la Vega...?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

"I swear, Victoria... There's nothing else between Señorita Duarte and me than what she said yesterday!"

Victoria shrugged.

"That's none of my business, Diego... You are perfectly free to do whatever you want with whoever you want. You are not tied up to me, you've never been."

She was frantically scrubbing an already impeccably clean copper pot like her life depended on it, and seemed to decide this was the most important thing in the world so she turned all her attention on it.

"Victoria, please..." Diego insisted. "What you think is important to me. It matters to me that you of all people don't believe these false rumours or gossips."

The only thing he heard in answer to his plea was the sound of steel wool against the metal of the pot.

"Victoria..." he said again with a growling hint of slight irritation.

"If you tell me that nothing improper happened then I have no reason to think otherwise, Don Diego," she replied far too calmly in a far too composed voice, still scrubbing the spick and span copper pot.

He sighed and felt a compelling need to tear the steel wool from Victoria's hands and force her to face him, but he decided against it: in her current state of mind this would only get her back up. Diego closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and then looked again at her back which she was stubbornly turning to him.

"Victoria," he said in a lower and softer voice, "she is far too young for me, you know that... I still see her as the child she was when I came back from Spain, I swear!"

"Then you must have serious eyesight problems, Diego, because to anyone who has eyes to see she looks very much like a woman, now."

This time, Diego had enough of her stubbornness:

"Victoria," he told her gently, "won't you really stop rubbing this pot mirror-clean, turn to me and look at me?"

She paused in polishing the bottom of her pot, put in down on the dish rack, let go of the steel wool and finally turned to face Diego.

"Thank you," he said. "Victoria, I swear on... on... on–"

"...on your mother's vase!" she told him on an impulse.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"All right... on my mother's vase, that Elvira Duarte and I are absolutely not romantically involved, and that nothing improper happened between the two of us either. Do you believe me, now?"

Victoria looked at him, still uncertain.

"Victoria, I simply stayed too long alone with her and completely forgot both about the time and about what it could do to her reputation, but that's all. I am not even attracted to her, and she isn't to me."

The innkeeper frowned: she clearly wanted to believe him, but she wasn't totally convinced yet.

"What's the point in telling me that, Diego? What's the point? You are completely entitled to your own love life, and I sincerely hope that you'll find happin–"

"Victoria," he pleaded, "it matters to me. You and my father are the only two people whose opinion really matters to me. The rest of–"

"I'm flattered, Don Diego, really. But what about your sister's opinion?" Victoria asked, almost reproachfully. "And Felipe's?"

Of course it mattered too, Diego inwardly answered. But Felipe knew about Zorro, and Leonor...

"Of course, but Leonor is far too young for this kind of subtleties," he replied with a smile. "Thank God," he added. "And my father already trusts my word, he told me so yesterday: he doesn't believe the current gossip and knows that Elvira and I aren't interested in each other."

"Oh, she's 'Elvira' again, now? She was only 'Señorita Duarte' a few minutes ago..."

"Victoria, please..." Diego let out in a growling voice.

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again she sighed and looked at him:

"On your mother's vase...?" she asked.

"On my mother's vase," he confirmed in a serious voice. "And on all the flowers I have put in it since I gave it to you..."

She had a soft smile. She missed his bunches of flowers.

"All right," she finally let out.

Diego felt immensely relieved, and a weight was immediately lifted from his shoulders.

"But what if Teresa asks you to marry her daughter? What if your father decides that you have to, whatever truly happened?"

Victoria discovered that she wasn't feeling at ease with this idea. At all.

"He won't," Diego answered. "He swore it to me. Don't worry for me, or for Elv– Señorita Duarte: in a few weeks from now no one will think about it anymore. Not if we act as usual. Not with the current worry about grain and flour: people have other things to think about, other much more crucial concerns."

"Let's hope so. And talking about these more serious matters, the distribution will take place this afternoon. Will you and your father be there?"

"My father, yes. Definitely. But with him there, I don't think it's essential for me to attend too, so I don't know yet. See you later?"

In truth, Diego wanted Zorro to hide somewhere near the pueblo during the distribution, in case something went wrong with the distribution.

Victoria let out a small sigh: once again his constant absence from any local important event that might – even remotely – take a wrong turn disappointed her, but she didn't say anything.

But when he gave her a shy smile she forgave him, and when he hesitantly leaned in to drop a chaste but soft kiss on her cheek she completely forgot about it, only wondering what this was for...

"Thank you for believing me..." he said as an explanation for his rather forward gesture, before he exited her kitchen.

 _Hmm, that went rather well,_ he thought. Better than expected, at least. But he then mentally kicked himself when, just as he entered the main room, he caught a voice comment to other people around a nearby table that 'Don Diego has stayed rather long alone in the kitchen with Señorita Escalante for a mere polite greeting from a family friend, hasn't he?'. He sighed but felt relieved when no one else around the table seemed to believe that Victoria would allow anything improper. Or Zorro, for that matter.

But who would have thought that Diego de la Vega could now pass as the pueblo's philanderer?

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Diego had feared his father's reaction and Victoria's, but in fact it's Felipe's he should have dreaded most. Both of them were in the cave and the younger man was pacing the place making wide signs with one arm. He was even forgetting his wound from time to time when he was trying to use his other arm to better speak and emphasise his point, but was then soon reminded of his current condition when a searing pain shot up to his shoulder, making him wince.

"But Felipe, you of all people should know that I was in fact on the roof at this very moment, so I couldn't be inside their storeroom with Elv–"

Felipe made a sign to interrupt him, signed a comment and then accusingly pointed his finger at him.

"What do you mean, 'before and after'? _Before_ , I was here having some rest and eating, as you already know, then I simply got changed, saddled Tornado and rode to the pueblo. And _after_ , I rode back here to spend the night on Tornado's hay, that's all."

But Felipe then frantically signed his next question. Why on Earth would Elvira lie for him and provide him with an alibi?

Diego sighed heavily. Then he reluctantly admitted:

"Because she knows..."

Another sigh.

But Felipe signed that he didn't understand.

"She _knows_ , Felipe. She knows who I am."

Felipe's eyes grew wide. He couldn't believe that Diego told her his secret! That they were that much intimate for him to confide in her! That he had shared _their_ secret with her!

 "Wow, wow, wow, Felipe! Calm down! I didn't tell her anything!"

 _Yeah sure,_ Felipe meant.

"I swear! I would never tell such a dangerous secret to a mere stranger, you can believe me on that! She simply recognised Zorro's new shirt despite the dyeing, and remembered whom she sewed it for. That's all."

Felipe couldn't help but remark that she must have come _very_ close from the shirt to recognise it.

"For God's sake, Felipe! What's gotten into to you? Why don't you believe my word anymore?"

Why? He was asking why? He had lied to him for months about his 'siesta strolls', about Zorro's 'nightly patrols', about the change in his relationship with Victoria, he had secretly slept with her for half a year, and he now dared ask him how it could be that he lost his trust? And how it could be that Felipe thought him capable of having a mistress in the pueblo?

But why on Earth did he have to set is sight on Elvira, of all the girls in the pueblo! Why couldn't he just... just... just... He didn't have the right, not with her! Not Elvira! Anyone else, perhaps, but Elvira... he didn't have the right!

Diego tried to get Felipe to calm down but his young friend pushed him back with his free arm, shook his head, turned his back and took the stairs two by two before quickly looking through the peephole and exiting the secret passageway through the fireplace.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

Standing in the middle of the library Diego sighed heavily. After a stunned minute of bewilderment, he had given up the idea of running after Felipe to try to reason with him for the moment, and just dragged himself up the stairs and through the secret panel of the fireplace.

Felipe! Felipe of all people! Diego would have never thought that he would one day lose his young accomplice's trust... He shook his head rather despondently. Felipe had a thing for Elvira Duarte, Diego had suspected that earlier but totally forgotten about it lately. Well, now it was only obvious, and it was blinding the young man: Felipe now resented him and didn't believe in Diego's refutation at all.

He sighed again. What a mess, what a mess, what a messy mess! He closed his eyes, thinking hard about how to reason with a resentful smitten young man once he'll have calmed down. He was roused from his gloomy reflections buy the feel of a sudden impact of something warm against his thighs and middle, and by the sound of his name enthusiastically resounding in the room:

"Diego!" came the name from somewhere near his stomach.

He lowered his gaze and saw Leonor encircle his waist with her short arms, nesting her head against him, turning her face to the side and putting her ear against his stomach.

He smiled.

"You're here... I have been looking for you and Felipe for the past hour," she said in a whining voice. "I just saw him walk past me in the courtyard but he didn't look at me."

Without thinking, Diego ruffled her dark hair, and she tightened her grip around him.

"Stay with me until lunch time, please Diego..." she pleaded.

He smiled and reciprocated the affectionate hug. Dear Leonor...

He led her to the sofa and sat down on it, patting the seat beside him.

"All right, Leonor. Sit down?"

She nodded and eagerly complied, before slipping her arms around her brother's waist again and letting herself go against his chest with a blissful smile. Diego revelled in the sweet hug. Then Leonor raised one of her hands to a shelf and grabbed a book on it. She handed it to Diego, cosily snuggling up again against his chest.

"Read it to me, please," she asked Diego.

He glanced at the gilded title on the leather cover: _El ingenioso hidalgo don Quijote de la Mancha._ Diego raised his eyebrows.

"It's Papá's favourite novel," Leonor explained, not moving from her current posture.

"I know. But you now can read very well all by yourself, I know that. Why do you want me to read it aloud for you?"

"I'd like to spend some time with you," she simply answered with disarming candour. "I haven't seen you much last week. Does it bother you?"

He kissed the top of her hair.

"No, not at all mi cariño. Quite the contrary."

He opened the book at a random page.

"And also," Leonor went on, "I like your voice. It reminds me a bit of Papá's, but deeper. It also reminds me of my uncle Gaspar's, but sweeter."

Diego couldn't help himself: he had to kiss the top of Leonor's head again, and with his free arm he tightened his hold around his sister.

"Muchas gracias for the compliment, fair señorita."

She smiled at the sensation of her brother's deep voice resonating in his large chest right against her ear. Yes, she liked this voice.

"You know," she went on, "I'm so sad that Felipe cannot hear it!"

Dear, dear Leonor! But Diego's breath caught in his chest, and an unpleasant sensation settled inside it: he couldn't tell his sister that Felipe had been in fact hearing it perfectly well over the past years, and that they had been lying to her and to absolutely everyone all this time!

He sighed.

"And..." Leonor added, "I've often wondered what his voice would sound like, if he could speak..."

Diego closed his eyes: how would it sound, indeed? Felipe's voice... He was surprised to realise that he had never really wondered about it, and he felt bad for that. And it had to be Leonor, who had known Felipe for only six months, who pointed that out! Diego was humbled by it. He hugged his sister even tighter as he felt a surge of sheer love overwhelm him. He revelled in the hug: who knows, she'd probably be the only child he would cuddle in his life, ever since Felipe wasn't anymore the little boy he still was all these years ago, just before he left for Spain!

He closed his eyes to better capture the current moment in his memory: the soft caress of Leonor's hair against his chin, her warm breathing, the sweet softness of her child skin, and the waves of wonderful love flooding through his veins for this little girl he didn't even know six months earlier...

For the first time, Diego finally felt very grateful to his father for providing him with this baby sister. For God's sake, right now he was even grateful to Araceli! ...Who would have thought?

"I love you much much much," he finally quietly murmured to her.

She nestled even more cosily against him.

"I love you much too," she replied, almost shyly.

They stayed like that a minute or so, then an insistent nudge tore him away from his blissful thoughts:

"Diego, please, now read!"

And he complied:

 _"En un lugar de la Mancha, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme–_ Don't put your feet on the sofa, Leonor!"

She reluctantly took her feet off the seat and put these back to the ground with a sigh.

"Gracias," Diego simply said. _"…no ha mucho tiempo que vivía un hidalgo de los de lanza en astillero…"_


	128. Ch 128 - Old dog, new tricks

_Alejandro couldn’t take his gaze away from Araceli, admiring her now velvet-soft and almost spotless skin, her resplendent silky hair, her sparkling eyes and of course her perfect and alluring curves. Especially the round pregnancy bump. Oh, and the two wonderful breasts right above. And also the incredibly shapely hips, and the well-rounded buttocks, of course! In fact every part of her curvaceous body had turned into a heavenly attractive trap for a man's eyes. Or hands._

_Or lips._

_Or tongue._

_Right now she was only wearing a white cotton eyelet nightgown with frilly sleeves cascading down to her elbows and with a blue satin ribbon tied right under her bosom, therefore enhancing the roundness of both her incredibly full bust and her wonderful baby bump. Blessed be pregnancy! He loved the weight she had put on. Even the one that had settled in her thighs, or in her cheeks. Alejandro wondered how it could be that there wasn't a queue of admirers everyday on her doorstep, or how men in San Diego could get themselves not to gaze droolingly at her whenever she was walking down the streets. How did they manage to take their look away from this woman? Where they all blind? _In Alejandro's opinion the only other plausible answer would be that they were simply not attracted to women...__

_Again, Alejandro feasted his eyes on her figure, on her perfect skin, and in a flash of lucidity he thought that perhaps he was being not totally objective about her – oh, just a little bit – but after all he didn't care: the feeling was simply marvellous. In the fifth to sixth month into expecting their child, Araceli was in the full blossom of the pregnancy glow and she was apparently feeling wonderful, according to her constant energy and to the smile almost continuously plastered on her face._

_Anyway, she was_ looking _wonderful, in Alejandro's opinion. Absolutely marvellous._

_So he simply told her so._

_"Gracias Alejandro," she gracefully replied with a pleased smile._

_He couldn't help himself: he had to touch her again, although they had just woken up in each other's arms. So he grabbed her hand when she walked past their – no, not 'their', but 'her' – bed on her way to her dressing table, and he held her back. She settled a puzzled look on him and arched an eyebrow._

_"Please sit down beside me," he asked, patting the mattress._

_"But I've just gotten up!" she replied, amused._

_He shrugged._

_"Then just a kiss..." he said, encircling her waist with his arms and burying his face against her stomach to give it this kiss he was pleading for._

_"You'd better make the most of it while you can still join your hands behind my back," she told him in a chuckle. "With the way my stomach is swelling you'll have to stretch your arms quite a lot to manage this feat by the end of my pregnancy..."_

_But then he felt her slowly run her hands and fingers through the strands of his hair and stroke the back of his head. The moment was just perfect._

_"How comes I'm simply incapable of resisting your kisses...?" she sighed, finally granting him his request and sitting down on the bed right beside him._

_He treated the side of her neck with a tender kiss and she sighed with content, clearly enjoying the ministration._

_"Don't feel bad about it," he said with a smirk, "it's just that I too can drive a hard bargain, when I want..."_

_She turned suddenly serious again._

_"I don't bargain over kisses," she stated. "Either given or received. Or shared, for that matter. Some things are simply not to be traded."_

_"I'm glad to hear that," Alejandro replied, stroking her cheek with the back of his bent fingers. "You are really going to make a very fine and wonderful mother, the kind of mother who instils good principles in her children."_

_"Funny," she retorted, "that's not exactly what some sorry minds pretend, in town."_

_Alejandro frowned._

_"I thought you didn't listen to preachy scandalmongers, to malicious gossips?" he told her. "What's gotten into you, now? Madre de Dios, who are you and what have you done with Doña Araceli Ximénez de Valdès?"_

_She looked at him and finally giggled._

_"Oh, yes, thank you for reminding me that," she replied, "I had forgotten. No care for gossips, I promise!"_

_And she pecked his slightly prickly unshaven cheek. But she definitely preferred when he was smooth-faced, so she aimed at his lips for her next peck._

_"I don't bargain over kisses," she repeated, "but I admit that under certain circumstances I can sometimes plead and even beg for these..." she added with a suggestively arched eyebrow and a crooked smile._

_Alejandro chuckled. He already knew that of course, and even had another proof of this no later than the night before._

_"Don't I know that..." he retorted with a self-satisfied smirk. "But I must confess that I take a malicious pleasure out of making you beg... And if I remember well you were particularly cooperative in giving me this slightly wicked delight and thrill last night!"_

_And with this remark, Alejandro winked at her. Araceli rolled her eyes._

_"You are far too pleased with yourself, Señor!"_

_"What?" he replied, acting all innocent. "I remember you saying some various things last night, but none of these sounded like you were complaining about what I was doing to you..."_

_"Careful, careful, Alejandro... that's a dangerous game you're playing... and even a rather dishonest one!"_

_"Dishonest?" he repeated, feeling his honour attacked._

_"Dishonest, yes: you simply took advantage of my current condition, and of the enhanced needs it induces in me, in order to get me to beg you..."_

_"That's not exactly my take on how things happened, my dear: I'd rather say that you were mostly pleading and even rather directive... I merely obeyed your instructions and granted you your wish after an internal heroic struggle with my own moral standards, that's all!"_

_Araceli burst out laughing._

_"Have you ever thought about going into politics, Alejandro? Because I think you'd be great at presenting things the way you want people to see them."_

_"Same goes for you, mi querida. You are great at getting people do what you want them to do..."_

_"Oh, and will you dare pretend you didn't get a real thrill in playing the game of getting me to beg for your lips and tongue?" Araceli challenged him with a pointed look._

_"The only thing I played with is your body, mi deliciosa, and if I'm not mistaken the thrill you got out of it seemed to be at least just as delightful as mine..."_

_"Oh, you cheeky rascal!" Araceli said, giving his forearm a gentle and playful slap. "I maintain that taking advantage of a woman in need in order to make her beg is an unsporting and below-the-belt behaviour, a low blow, a–"_

_"Below-the-belt indeed" Alejandro said, encircling her waist, spreading his hands over the small of her back and gently lowering her upper body to the mattress, with her head toward the footboard._

_For a split second his lips hovered over Araceli's but he simply smirked, moved down her chest, pulled her nightgown up her legs to bunch it up over her stomach and gently put his hands on Araceli's knees to spread them apart._

_"It's already late, Alejandro, I have to get up... I have much to d–" she told him in a rather unconvincing voice._

_But he put his lips on the inside of her left knee and despite the rather rough and prickly feeling of his morning stubble against the very smooth and sensitive thin skin of this intimate part of her body, her breath caught in her chest. Then the sensation of his wet, warm and soft tongue soon made up for the unshaven chin and Araceli sucked on her own lower lip, slightly biting it in the process._

_Then she recovered to tell him:_

_"Alejandro, I have a social call to make in one hour..."_

_He withdrew his head from her knee and replied:_

_"One hour? Hmm, it will be a bit short for us but we'll manage..."_

_Again, Araceli burst out laughing._

_"Oh you braggart!" she said with a chuckle. "But look, the sun is already high in the sky..."_

_"What! You led me to fully taste the exquisite flavour of your very own ambrosia last night," Alejandro argued, "and you introduced me to new delights of your body... You cannot deprive me of it just now! Now that you have hooked me, I need my dose of it..."_

_And he blew some hot breath on her exposed damp core._

_"Unless of course you really, absolutely want me to stop..." he added, blowing again on her folds. "In this case of course, I would simply get up from this bed immediately..."_

_Another blow, on her right knee this time and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in._

_"My lady's wish is my command!"_

_Cocky. She knew he was being far too cocky, and she really should catch him at his own game, take him at his word and tell him to get up and get dressed... But she also was honest enough with herself to know that this was not what she really wanted him to do right now!_

_"Don't worry, I won't make you late for your appointment..." he murmured with a lopsided grin. "I'll just speed things up after the first half-hour!"_

_For the third time since she woke up Araceli burst out laughing. She loved how Alejandro was able to make her laugh._

_"You boaster!" she let out between joyful chortles._

_But when Alejandro buried his face between her thighs Araceli's chuckles were slowly replaced with sighs of satisfaction. When her lover added his tongue to his lips the sounds she was making soon turned into purrs of contentment and her arms shot up above her head to firmly grab the top of the footboard behind her. And when Alejandro's fingers joined his mouth, her throat started to let out delighted moans of pleasure. It would certainly not last half an hour, but it would undeniably be worth being a few minutes late for what she had to do in the morning; and marvelling at the fact that contrary to the common saying she had 'taught an old dog new tricks' in that area, Araceli suddenly regretted that she hadn't acquainted him with this practise far earlier!_


	129. Ch 129 - The early departed

The distribution of grain and flour went well, thankfully. Alejandro had left his daughter at home with Concepcion, just in case: Araceli would go mad with him if anything happened to their little girl under his watch, and honestly he probably wouldn't forgive himself either, should something bad occur.

And of course once again, Diego had been nowhere to be seen when the time had come to leave for the pueblo after lunch. Alejandro had sighed at his son's lack of involvement in the pueblo's highlights, but he had finally given up on it and now took Diego as he came, the way he was. His son had many other qualities, Alejandro reflected to console himself, and he could have turned out far worse than the fine man he had become.

He could have turned out just as badly as his twin brother, for instance... Alejandro glanced at the churchyard with a pang of sadness. And of guilt, too: he knew that the man buried there was his offspring just as much as Diego and Leonor were, and yet he didn't totally feel like he was. He couldn't completely get himself to fully feel like he was Risendo's father, and it was making him feel bad. Alejandro knew that the man had had his mind and soul completely messed up by his mother ever since he was born, and therefore that Gilberto hadn't been entirely responsible for how badly he turned out, but still... Although he had forgiven him, Alejandro hadn't still managed to fully consider himself as his father. And he was ashamed of not feeling the same thing that any parent would feel when they suffer the loss of their child and have to bury their own flesh and blood.

He certainly would have felt much more devastated, and for far longer, if – Heavens forbid! – he had to bury either Diego or Leonor. A shudder of sheer horror crept up his spine and he quickly crossed his fingers to ward off bad luck. The death of one's child was probably the worst thing in a parent's life... and he couldn't say that the horrifying idea never crossed his mind, especially in the three or four months before Leonor's birth when his paternal instinct had been exacerbated by some sort of sympathetic pregnancy, with sudden pangs of dread sometimes ensuing.

z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z

_"Alejandro, I know it's a bit early to talk about this and I wouldn't want to jinx our little one but, assuming that everything goes well with the rest of the pregnancy and with the childbirth," she said, reaching to a nearby branch of wisteria and touching its wood to ward off bad luck, "have you suggestions as to the choice of godparents?"_

_Alejandro started and turned a surprised face to her, clearly caught unawares in the middle of their quiet after-lunch stroll along the paths of her garden._

_"Oh! Uh... uh... what do you..." he stammered, "I mean I thought you... you'd ask relatives of yours of course..."_

_"Indeed," she replied, "I've been thinking about asking my sister Guadalupe to be the godmother..."_

_Alejandro nodded._

_"Yes, good idea..." he agreed. "And as godfather, would you choose her husband or your brother?"_

_Araceli had a slight frown and looked at him a bit puzzled._

_"I thought..." she said, tilting her head to the side "I thought you'd rather like to offer this role to your son..."_

_According to the look on his face he clearly hadn't thought even one second about that. Araceli even noticed that he started shuffling his right foot on the spot._

_"Er... that would be... an idea..." he mumbled, "but... uh... as a matter of fact, I haven't written to him yet. About it. About the child, I mean... Or about you either"_

_Araceli closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, nibbled on her lip but didn't say anything._

_"In fact I just thought... I just thought I'd wait until the birth to announce it to him. I am sure that the news about the baby, and perhaps a sketch or a portrait of his new sibling, would help sweeten the pill for him..."_

_Araceli let out a sigh. She sat on a stone bench near a thorny and flowerless rosebush. Out of the blue, she remembered that it was precisely where this whole affair had begun, one year and a half earlier, by a splendid blazing sunset._

_That night they had shared their first kiss. Just before he ran away from her. And now, was he unconsciously fleeing again? From his son, this time?_

_"I don't think that's a good idea to wait so long, Alejandro: to him it would just look like you present him with a fait accompli and try to coax him into accepting it. At least that would be my take on the situation if my father acted like that toward me and my siblings..."_

_Alejandro slowly sat beside her on the bench._

_"It's not that..." he finally said. "I'll tell him in due time. But sometimes I feel that a letter may not be the best way to do so. One second thought a leaf of paper looks more than anything like a fait accompli, to use your own words. A face to face conversation would certainly be better. Father and son... in person."_

_"He's in Spain, Alejandro..." Araceli pointedly reminded him._

_Yes, the next face to face conversation wouldn't happen before a few more years, this was what she pointed out to him with these simple words._

_"Of course he's_ your _son, not mine," she went on, "and your relationship with him is entirely your own business. You do what you want but as your friend I am merely sharing with you my opinion on the matter, because I care about your happiness."_

_He pensively nodded._

_"Gracias. I'll think about it."_

_"But if you do not intend to ask your son to be the godfather, then who? Someone else among your relatives? Your friends?"_

_Alejandro's silence as well as the way he was staring at the ground between his feet was speaking for itself: he hadn't told anyone at all in Los Angeles or in the rest of his family._

_Araceli couldn't say that she was very pleased about it. It was making her feel like she was something shameful, a dark secret, whereas on her part she was seeing the child to come as a godsend, a blessing._

_But Alejandro was ashamed of her and however free-spirited she fancied herself as, it hurt a little bit. In her current state of mind she conveniently forgot that he had proposed to marry her in the early times of her pregnancy, and that she turned the generous offer down. So against her better judgement she wanted to make him pay for this slight cowardice of his and she suggested:_

_"All right, all right, I could ask Cesar to be the godfather, then."_

_"Cesar!?" Alejandro shouted, sitting bolt upright. "Cesar Villegas, you mean?"_

_"Yes," she replied with fake nonchalance, "there is no other Cesar around here, as far as I know."_

_The look on Alejandro's face was priceless, and Araceli didn't want to put him out of his misery just yet. She wanted to leave him to stew in his own juice a little bit longer, just to teach him a good lesson._

_"He and I have been on speaking terms again for the past year or so," she added. "We've sort of made peace, and it would be a goodwill gesture from both parts if he were my child's godfather, don't you think?"_

_Araceli knew fairly well that Alejandro wasn't too fond of the man who had been his immediate predecessor in her bed, and she was getting an almost perverse pleasure in pulling his leg in such a way._

_"Well," he said rather surly, "since you're asking me, I don't think it's a good idea at all."_

_"No? Don't you think he'd make a fine godfather?"_

_"That's not the point," he told her. "But considering the fact that he and you... in the past... I mean..."_

_Araceli made a show of thinking hard about what he was saying, and then:_

_"Hummm... Yes, maybe," Araceli finally agreed, deciding that she had made him miserable enough. "Making my former lover the godfather of my child would for sure set tongues wagging around here..."_

_"Ah, you see my point!" Alejandro said. "Have you two really grown that closer, lately?"_

_"Hmm," she simply answered. "We have mutual acquaintances, and when you're invited somewhere, it's easier for everyone if you're not giving the cold shoulder to one of the other guests. Things are better, now."_

_Alejandro clearly wasn't sure how much 'better' it was, but he said nothing more on the subject and went back to their former topic of conversation:_

_"I would have thought... For your first child, I thought that you'd choose the eldest of your brothers as godfather..."_

_A shadow fleeted in Araceli's eyes._

_"It's not the first..." she let out in a soft but even voice, with a far-away look in these._

_Alejandro sharply turned his upper body toward her and couldn't help a startled "What?!" from escaping his lips._

_Araceli had a feeble smile and repeated:_

_"It won't be my first."_

_Alejandro stared at her, stunned._

_"I had a son," she simply explained._

_He hadn't been expecting that. A son?!_

_Wait, wait, wait... 'had'?_

_She had his undivided attention, and nothing could now divert it from her._

_"It was almost four years into our marriage... I had already been pregnant a few years earlier, but it hadn't gone all the way to the end unfortunately, it failed in the third month. But this other time it went well, and we had a baby boy."_

_She paused, and Alejandro dared not say anything._

_"At the time our marriage was already rocky, showing serious signs of wear and falling apart at the seams. Almost strangers living under the same roof, in a way. And sharing the same bad, incidentally. In fact, that's the one part of our marriage that had always worked well: whatever the state of our interactions, or rather of our almost nonexistent interactions, we had always gladly remained... er... physically intimate," Araceli said with a smile._

'That figures...' _Alejandro inwardly remarked,_ 'you're telling me...' _He now knew her too well but would have gladly done without this piece of information about this particular side of her and her late husband's marital relations._

_"So, well... when we found out that I was expecting again we weren't surprised of course, and since both he and I wanted children we welcomed it as good news. It did nothing for the state of our marriage though, either in a good or in a bad way, but this was an irrelevant matter anyway and we were happy about the prospect of becoming parents; if everything went well this time, I mean. It did and when the baby was born, perfect and healthy, of course we were overjoyed. I was nineteen, Pascual was twenty-one, and since everything had gone well, nothing could then go wrong..."_

_She had a sweet wistful smile, and Alejandro remembered the first time he saw Diego, relieved and happy that both his wife and their newborn child were doing all right._

_"We named him José," she simply added._

_Then Araceli's smile faded and she sighed. Her gaze settled on her own knees as she reminisced further and travelled back into her own past memories. Alejandro knew that what she was going to tell him next wouldn't be so happy. He didn't dare take her hand but moved half an inch closer to her, to show her his moral support._

_"Six months later there was a measles outbreak around San Juan Capistrano," she said._

_Yes, Alejandro remembered. It had also reached Los Angeles at the time._

_"I contracted it, and apparently passed it on to my family because a dozen days later both Pascual and José got it too, as well as one of our servants."_

_She paused and her voice was then quieter when she went on:_

_"I recovered, without residual effects on my health, but the disease was harder on my husband and my son. Pascual got some lasting condition out of it: it turned into bronchitis but fortunately for him he recovered from the measles; but afterwards he kept bad lungs for the rest of his life. And José..."_

_Araceli's voice broke and she stopped. Alejandro strongly suspected what was going to come next and he still didn't talk, unwilling to interrupt her, but this time he dared gently cover her hand with his._

_She breathed deeply in, then out, then in again and she went on:_

_"José... With him, measles turned out badly. Something settled in his lungs too, and the fever worsened. I still remember the sound of his laboured breathing. Sometimes it seems to me that I can even hear it in the silence of the night... but only on my worst days!" she said, sounding as though she was apologising for having some moments of weakness._

_Alejandro squeezed her hand very lightly. He knew Araceli wasn't done with the story and guessed that she still had the worst part to tell him._

_"After three days of high fever José looked really weak, but neither the doctor we brought him to nor the local Indian medicine man could cure him, and he still had more and more trouble breathing. And one day... it was around midday, I remember, and ironically enough it was bright and sunny... he died."_

_Her voice had remained steady but she had closed her eyes, Alejandro noted. He now knew her enough to know that this calm exterior was not the sign of some kind of detachment from her part, but simply her way of refusing to break apart, to make a spectacle of herself, of her sorrow, to put her grief on display. It was her very own take on decency, on modesty. And contrary to the opinion of some stuffy straight-laced minds in San Diego, Alejandro knew that she was one of the most reserved and modest persons around. They just didn't have the same definition of decency as hers, simply that. When they only saw the low and frilly neckline of her outfits and the generous part of cleavage it revealed – too low, too frilly, too colourful and too generous for a widow – they totally missed the incredibly decent heart beating just behind this frivolous exterior, this outward appearance. Well, in their defence he had to admit that she was hiding it quite well, and himself had needed several months or even years before he saw it. Before she_ let _him see it._

_There wasn't a single tear in her eyes, they weren't even moist as she had just told him the sad story of her firstborn's death, but he didn't make the mistake of thinking that she didn't care. And he knew it cost her to reminisce it aloud. He admired her self-control and composure. Her restraint and dignity._

_She tilted her head to the side and unexpectedly let it go against Alejandro's shoulder, stretching her neck a bit, still staring right ahead of them instead of at him; and they quietly remained like that for a whole minute, sitting side by side on the bench with his hand over hers on the cold stone, her upper body leaned to the side, her head pillowed on his shoulder and their eyes looking at the flowerless and leafless skeleton of a wisteria bough meandering along the railing in front of them._


End file.
